


Warm Shadows

by Snows_Echo



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Assassin - Freeform, Badass Female Lead, Between Episodes, Blood, Blood and Violence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gentle Negan (Walking Dead), Hot Sex, Internal Conflict, Motorcycles, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Negan Smut Week, Negan's Queen, Older Man/Younger Woman, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Post Apocalypse Bonnie and Clyde, Post Apocalypse Harley Quinn and Joker, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Rough Sex, Sensuality, Sex, Sexual Tension, Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-12 02:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snows_Echo/pseuds/Snows_Echo
Summary: After the beginning of the apocalypse, all Harley Burk knew was pain, anger, and blood. The world had been cruel to her, and in turn, had reshaped who she was. After what seemed like a peaceful new beginning, she meets Negan, where he will test Harley's morality as she walks a fine line between insanity and salvation of her mind and soul.  Does she run towards the Light of her past self; or survive, and embrace her Dark capabilities, and use them beside Negan?The story before Negan met Rick





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am so happy to be a part of this community!  
> I would first like to say, that not only is this my very first post, but my first piece of writing that I have ever shared with people!  
> I would love any constructive advice, but I sincerly hope you enjoy a character that fans love to hate or hate to love with a twist.  
> **If someone wants a creative insult for Negan featured, feel free to leave a comment and I'll try to work in some of your own profanity ;) **

It was unpleasantly warm and the rain was making the mid spring heat even more unbearable. The stickiness. The smell of the hot, wet ground sat heavy on the settlement. My muscles ached from teaching the new members of our little society how to fight all day for the last three days. I leaned my head back, letting the rain hit my face during the brief interval of groups coming to learn. Atlas, my black German Shepherd, let out a wary wine, laying between my legs as the new group approached. I rested my hands on my knife belt, waiting for the group of children no older than sixteen to approach the station I had set up. Knives were my specialty as well as hand to hand combat and I had been training since I was a little girl. I thought fondly to my past before the Dead in the few moments I had before the lesson. My parents were disaster preppers, starting right after daddy got back from the war. They were certain this world was to fall to ruin--and as crazy as I thought they were, they were right. Pa was special forces, trained to kill, and taught me how to as well, just in case I had to. Axe and knife throwing, hand to hand, and archery, Pa versed me in these claiming that guns were only temporary when the world fell. In the end they sacrificed themselves, so that I could live, and I carried it with me everyday. For them, I promised I’d live. That was not long after the outbreak and the Dead rose to life.  
“What are we learning today, Harley?” I smirked hearing my name. Harley. My daddy named me. He rode with a Motorcycle Club for war veterans, said he had to name me after his first love. I lost my smirk and clamped my eyes shut hard. I hadn’t cried in a long time, I wasn’t about to let myself now.  
I opened my eyes, to look at one of my students, snapping back to harsh reality. He was so young. When I was fifteen, I was dreaming of boys that were too old for me, the kind that skipped class to smoke cigarettes behind the greenhouses at school, I was also trying to pass all my classes at the same time so that I could meet better boys for me in college. The world we lived in now, it didn’t allow such child fantasies anymore. We lived in a world where we had to teach our young how to fight. Young. I was twenty-two before the Dead rose, I had to be twenty-three by now, maybe twenty-four, we had lost all track of time now.  
I tied my dark, chocolate-brown hair into a ponytail, and gripped my blade handles with gloved hands, “Get in lines!” I ordered and my class scrambled to follow. We practiced in the rain and mud on the edge of the community near the walls that surrounded our safe haven. I worked with my class until I could see it click in their eyes; that this was life and death, the difference between a well-placed lunge and stab and their lives, their bodies walking aimlessly, mindlessly around the world.  
“Elbow jab, and slice!” I barked, and they committed to it with their smaller pocket-knife sized blades.  
In the far distance, I could hear the trucks, the motorcycles...them.  
Everyone ceased action over the compound. Standing in silence. Stillness draped over like a shadow as the motors and engines grew louder and louder, the thunder that warned of a big storm. The bells woke us all from our stupor and I sprang into action, calling out orders. The children were taken to one of the cottages towards the far end of the compound while the men brought out tribute--milk, eggs, and five of the hogs we raised. While the weaker of the community corralled and herded the children inside, the strongest waited for them to reach the gates. The self-proclaimed Saviors.  
The gates winced open, and they poured in. I noticed the big, black 4-wheel drive that led the pack, and I knew just who sat inside; a shudder climbed down my body, and I did my best to steel my face and conceal my nerves. His men jumped out first to “greet” us and to inspect the offering and take it back into their moving vans. One of his cronies stepped up to our leader, Adam. His grey hair was receding, and he had a creepy, child molester look about him that made me want to bury a blade in his chest. It occurred to me then, just how many people I’ve had to kill to stay alive, and how many I’d killed out of pure spite to see them die. The number fell somewhere above thirty, but I was unsure.  
The creep spoke as if he were friends with Adam, as if he had known him for years, he was creepy, and slimy, and I hated him. Just when my anger was beginning to peak into something stupid and reckless, the passenger door to the pickup swung open and an eerie whistle filled the air, making everyone fall to a hush. My blood chilled. It was the end of the bat I saw first, wrapped in barbed wire. He stepped out of the pickup, hair slicked back, a perfect, white smile, playing on his lips like he just won a game. It was always about playing the game. His leather jacket, his boots, the bat, that whistle. Negan. My fists balled at my sides as he approached Adam. Atlas could feel my nerves, and let out quiet ‘boofs’, which I made sure to silence immediately, I didn’t need the attention drawn to him--he was all I had left. What did Negan want? The question was on repeat in my mind. Normally, he didn’t make an appearance.  
“Well, Adam!” His voice boomed for all to hear. “Adam, Adam, Adam, it seems to me that we have a bit of a problem.”  
I could see the fear dance in Adam’s eyes, “I’m sorry, what is the issue, and how can I make it better?”  
Negan smiled to his compliance and circled him like a wolf circling a deer, his eyes casually looking to those gathered, his eyes falling on me, for a second that seemed like an eternity. His glance away could not be fast enough before he spoke again.  
“Well, you see, Adam,” he smiled wickedly at our leader, “You have not been keeping up with the order as promised, you see, if you don’t keep up with the deal, then we simply cannot keep our end--”  
“We are practically starving here! There’s not enough food for us all!”  
“Do not interrupt me, fuck-stick! Rude, Adam.” Negan barked, and Adam fell silent again. Fear rocking in his body. “You know what, I’m a reasonable man,” He smirked and gazed over the crowd, “and Adam, I like you, I can understand you are just trying to do good by your people. As I am trying to good by mine. So, allow me to help you out.”  
There was a still moment where Adam and Negan just looked at each other, Negan’s arms held out, Lucille dangling from his right hand. A sudden movement from Negan and his bat connected with the closest compound sentinel, breaking his jaw and skull, killing him instantly. My breath caught in my throat, an angry roar wanting to barrel out of me as crimson sprayed from his head. Women shrieked and screamed while blood pooled around Liam’s head. He was a good man, a great joke teller. "Boom!" Negan laughed, and clobbered his skull in three more times for good measure. Brain and skull fragments sprayed each time his bat fell. Negan’s back was to me, but when he wiped his head back to look at Adam, I could see the ear to ear grin on his face. He pointed a blood dripping Lucille at Adam. “Anyone else, Adam? Are there any more mouths to feed to relieve you of? Maybe I can take a look around, I’m sure I could find someone, maybe even--” Negan lifted the bat inches from Adam’s nose. My hand fell on my blade and before thinking further, it left my hand with a mighty throw, sticking solidly into Lucille. The throw was enough to toss Negan off balance, guns from his men instantly lifted, pointing at Adam, the community, me.  
My heart beat drummed in my ears, in my veins.  
“What in the holy hell?!” Negan roared. It was the most stupid, most reckless thing I had done this far since the world had collapsed, and it would cost my life. Negan yanked my knife from the bat and pointed it at me, but I watched as the anger in his eyes, quickly turned into jubilant amusement. “My my my, what do we have here.” He sang.  
I glared at him, tried to set him on fire with my mind, die, prick, burn. He sauntered closer, and closer, Lucille swinging at his side. Every gun was pointed at me, as Negan closed the gap between us. “My God, look at youu, little, fuckin’ firecracker! He smiled at me, eyes twinkling with delight. “You realize, you could have killed me, darlin’, and you know what else?” He was so close to me, casting shadow over me. He leaned down so that he was eye level with me. “I cannot let shit like that slide.” He peered into my eyes, “I will shut that shit down.” He whispered.  
I tried to read exactly what he was thinking, and he could tell what I was doing too, because he smiled and stood upright again, looking me up and down. “Darlin', I’ll give you two options, I’m sorry, I feel like a dick for not knowing your name. What’s your name, sugar tits?”  
I just glared at him. Damn him. I wanted to claw his face.  
He held a hand up to his ear, “I’m sorry, honey, what was your name?” He nearly sang.  
“Harley.” I growled through gritted teeth.  
“Harley!" He clapped. "Well Harley, you get to make a choice! We get to play a game!” My stomach soured as Negan smiled at me then looked around the crowds. “To solve your fearless leader’s dilemma with having too many mouths to feed, you can pick who I am going to kill next,” He paused for a very long time, the rain dripping down his nose while he laughed, but little did he know, I was a fox in the henhouse, waiting. “Or, you can come with me, follow me, call yourself Negan, and live as one of us?” Negan gestured to his men.  
I looked from man to man weighing my options and saw nothing but death, option 2 was the only way to keep more blood off the soil. I fell into my body, if I was going to go, I could not show any fear. I allowed the rigid edges on my body to dissipate, and crossed my arms over my chest. “If I go with you, I will kill him.” I pointed at his slimy, creepy crony. The man laughed at first then saw my smile, me nearly lick my lips with the idea of his blood on my hands. His laughter disappeared, and it didn't go unnoticed by Negan. Who laughed in return. “There doesn’t need to be more death here.” I said strongly. “I will go with you.” I could see the people of the community, my people glance around nervously, terrified for me, but I was not one of them, I had seen things, done things that would send shivers down their spines, similar to the ones Negan gave them.  
“Well,” Negan breathed, “Looks like we got a deal! Adam!” He turned towards my once leader, “See you in a week.” He turned away, whistling, and motioned for me to get in the pickup with him, kicking the driver out of the seat to go ride in the van. I gave a long whistle with one foot on the step up and motioned for Atlas to load into the pick up on the floor boards. The engines roared to life and I watched my old home, the people I had grown to like, disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

His musk and his cigar hanging out of his mouth filled the cab into a body betraying scent. Night was falling and the moon was starting to rise and play light on the land and on Negan’s face. “So Harley,” He said through his cigar, “You are damn good at what you do, not only by your little “one-off” display today, but I can tell, you are damn good at what you do.” He smiled and looked to me. I stared out the windshield. “Damn you’re gorgeous too.”  
I turned away from him. “Jus’ sayin’, sugar,” he smiled. “So, you goin’ tell me how you got so good throwin’ ninja stars?” His hand grazed my leg and I yanked it away from him while Atlas pinned his ears and bore long canines. It actually made him flinch and I had to conceal a smirk in the corner of my mouth. I gave him his command to be quiet and he rested his big head in my lap, waiting for his ears to be stroked, one eye resting on Negan. “I’ll kill that bitch if he bites me, or I’ll toss him out on the road.” Negan pointed at him, cigar between his fingers.  
My fist gripped my dagger’s handle as I said through gritted teeth, “Touch him, hurt him, look at him sideways, and I’ll kill you, cut off your dick, and feed it to him.” I pointed to my best friend.  
“You have got some big lady nuts sayin’ that to me.” He puffed on his cigar, “Listen, I can tell he don’t want me touching you, and just so we're clear, I won’t ever touch you like that if you don’t want me to," He paused to look me up and down, "but I doubt it will be long, however,” his tone changed, “you do not get to talk to me like that? You got that?”  
I smiled sweetly at him, and leaned my face towards his, “Yes, sir.” I pouted.  
Negan chuckled deeply, then reached forward and grabbed my face with viper like speed, eliciting more than a growl from Atlas, raised fur and bared teeth snapping, “Oh, I am going to have fun breaking you.” Negan breathed.  
I ripped my face away from his grasp. “Touch me again,” I smiled, but didn’t hide the fire in my eyes, “and I’ll do you worse than death. Touch me again, and I’ll cut your dick off--”  
“Yeah yeah,” He waved his hand “and feed it to your dog.” I watched as he licked his lips, biting his lower lip before clapping, “Damn girl,” Negan laughed, “I cannot wait to get to know your dark side, Harley.” 

 

I didn’t give him the pleasure of my backstory on our long ass ride back to their compound, but I was even less thrilled when we got to Negan’s hideout. He shifted the pick up into park and grabbed my wrist, making me look at him, “You do anything, and I mean anything to try to make me look like a fool in front of my men, and I’ll cut these pretty little hands off.” He said planting a hard kiss on the palm of my left hand. “Let me get your door, baby.” His face suddenly shifted. I stayed put while he went around and opened my door. He lifted me out of the raised pick up, his large hands on my waist, a little too long after he had already set me down. Atlas sprung out of the pick up to my side, letting out little ‘boofs’ at the unfamiliar faces.  
I glowered at Negan and he smiled gently taking my chin in his fingers, “Chin up, Harley, you’re home now.” 

 

He had the audacity to set me up in his room, to make me share his bed. His room was massive and full of the best things one could find in a zombie apocalypse. His room smelled of his same musk that drove my body against my will. He claimed he couldn’t trust me not to run amuck yet within his “house” so he wanted to keep a close eye on me. He made me have dinner with him too. He sat across from me at the table in his private studio as we ate sandwiches. “What do you drink, sweetheart?” His eyes lit up.  
I looked at him and raised my chin, “Whiskey.”  
“Now that is what I am talking about!” He laughed and grabbed a bottle of Jameson, setting it in front of me and sat back down, licking his lips as he watched me bring the bottle to mine and chugged. “Hot damn, you are sexy as fuck.”  
I raised my eyebrows as I finished swallowing, “Saying things like that isn’t going to get you any closer to being laid.”  
“Damn I like you! You are a badass! But let me tell you somethin’, miss Harley.” He leaned on the table and whispered, “I’m going to have you begging for me to screw you.” His smirk, those words, sent heat to my core. I had always been prone to getting tangled up with the wrong men, the bad boys, and I knew he loved a challenge as much as I loved giving challenges.  
“Let me tell you, Negan.” He tilted his head in curiosity. “I’m going to have you begging for me by the end of the week, but you are going to have to learn some manners first.”  
I swear I could hear him growl from across the table, not in anger, but in pure lustful challenge. He calmed his face. “What? Don’t believe me?” I pouted. I sank back into my chair, ripping off a piece of crust and tossing it to Atlas, lying just a few feet away. My eyes fixed on him, my beautiful boy.  
“He is a remarkable animal.” Negan claimed.  
With raised brows I turned my eyes back to him, “Excuse me? Was that a compliment?”  
“My father, he raised Doberman Pinschers, gorgeous creatures, intimidating, vicious when told to be. I had a bond with one like you do with him. Where did you find him?”  
Atlas was something I was comfortable talking about. I stood and walked to him, removing his metal plate armor around his throat and stomach. I ruffled the fur between his ears and smiled at him as I told Negan. “I had him since eight weeks old, we've been together, inseparable, for four years.” I looked to Negan, who rested his elbows on the table and his head on his fists listening to me with zero hostility in his eyes. It caught me off guard. My lips trembled, he made me nervous. “If anyone in this compound harms him, blood will be spilt.” I growled.  
There it was, his familiar smile. “You don’t have to act like a prisoner here, this is your home now and your people.”  
I motioned for Atlas to stand and I walked to the table, grabbing the bottle of Jameson and taking a swig, “Make me believe it.” I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, turned away, and strode towards the bathroom. I locked the door and made a bed of towels in the bathtub and cuddled up with Atlas, stroking his coarse fur until I fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 new chapters! Let me know what you think ;)

I woke to Atlas’ low growls rumbling against my head and the smell of cooked food. Still curled in the tub, towels strewn about, I stiffly stretched and emerged from the bathroom, shaving razor in hand. I looked about before fully entering the bedroom, Atlas trotting ahead of me sniffing. There was no one there. No Negan, no body guard, I was alone. A silver platter sat on the table where we dined last night. I lifted the lid to see bacon, eggs, and bread, likely the bacon and eggs my settlement grew for them. I rolled my eyes and dropped the lid to the side and ate the food sharing strips of bacon and pieces of bread with Atlas. I needed the energy and wasn’t in a position to be picky, I didn’t need to waste away in here before I killed Negan.  
My mind wandered to last night. An imagery of flashing, white teeth, and his scent. That voice. Shivers and gooseflesh betrayed my body and I caught myself curling my toes. Damnit! What the hell was wrong with me! He was a complete and total psycho. By the time I was halfway done with my meal I heard his whistle outside the door and I stopped chewing, looked around for a shirt and pulled one on. A few rhythmic knocks fell on the door a few seconds after opening and he waltzed in, two men at his side.  
“Mornin’, darlin’!” He howled as him and his men eyed me up and down before he spoke again, “my my my,” Negan bit on his lower lip, “honey, I’ve gotta say, I love the way you look in my t shirts.” He leaned back on his heels, letting Lucille dangle in his hand. “Damn!”. His men laughed with him and embarrassment swept over me as I looked down and realized it was his shirt. Atlas, ears pinned, tail and hackles bristling, crept towards the men, to stand in between us. The men stopped laughing and stepped back.  
“Don’t worry, honey,” Negan said on a silver tongue as he winked at me, “you can have it.” And he bowed his head. He almost looked as if he was pondering something for a moment, then barked for his men to leave his room before slamming the door shut.  
Spinning on his heels he grinned at me. “Little Harley, Little Harley,” He chuckled as he circled me, “mmm, seeing you in my shirt makes me want to ride you like a harley.” My cheeks flushed now and even worse, heat flushed between my legs. He stood behind me, so close, I could feel his chest at my back, his package at my ass, and his breath on my ear, “I get the feeling you want to fuck me as much as I want to bend you over and fuck the daylights out of you. Hmm?” His laugh rang in my ear. “Say the word, Harley, I won’t ever touch you if you don’t want it.” I straightened and lifted my chin. His hands fell on my shoulders and he spun me to face him, his eyes boring into mine. “I want you to know, I won’t ever touch you like that, if you don’t want it.” He sat there as if he waited for an: okay, from me.  
“Well, you’re gonna be waiting an awful long time, Negan.” I whispered to him.  
A large smile crossed his face, “We’ll see.” 

 

 

He took me for a tour of the compound and dubbed me a member of his inner circle--therefore acquired special rights to the compound. I got to take what I wanted, go where I wanted, and do, what I wanted. He even trusted me with my choice of firearms. I chose two Ruger semi-autos, similar to what I learned with. However, Negan sought to see just how capable I was with my abilities, so he gathered a crowd to watch me at first hit the bull's eye again and again with my blades on a log round, then wanted something more, sporting. His men ushered me, unwillingly to a part of the compound where the Dead were kept on standby in a field to restock the guard Dead, here, they roamed free of chains.  
Simon and another one of his men had their hands all over me, trying to force me into the field. One of Simon’s hands dipped from my shoulder to my breast and I was unbridled furry, kicking and screaming, cursing their names. I would not let Atlas bite any of them men because I would not have him put down for their bullshit, I just kept thanking God that I had suited Atlas up with his armor this morning.  
The men cheered and roared with laughter as I took impossible shots for anyone else, leaping off the chests of the Dead and tossing the blades through the skulls of others. They were coming quicker, and I was still trying to recover blades from those nearby. I pulled my twin pistols and pulled the triggers in rapid succession. One after another, Dead bodies fell; five-six-seven-eight, firing in a familiar pattern. By the time I had dropped maybe close to twenty-five, atlas five or so, and I was beyond exhausted. I was drenched in rotting blood, the recovered blades in hand, legs and arms wobbly. I huffed my way to the gate that the men had opened for me, Atlas panting hard. As I approached the gates I saw Simon laughing at me. My body’s weariness forgotten for a moment as I quickly closed the space between him and I, a pistol pulled and pressed up under his chin. Negan’s men jumped to his aid, to rip me off him and beat me, but Negan’s voice rose above the shouts of surprise. “Stop! Wait!” He commanded not to me, but his men. My arm was braced against his forehead as I snarled at him. “If you ever touch me again, ever look my way, I will fucking blow your head off!” Before letting him go, I made sure to make solid eye contact with Negan, and glared, “I’ll kill this son of a bitch.” I shoved Simon away from me like the garbage he was, then sent another venomous glare at Negan, Burn, bitch, burn! "Well tickle my taint!" Negan laughed, "Girl's got some fuckin' fire in her veins!" Blood dripped down my face, down my arms, down my blades. His mercenary men and women who looked at me with mocking expressions, stood silent, no longer smiling and laughing at my discomfort. I shook the rotting blood from my blades, blood hitting their faces. I sheathed my blades and lifted Atlas to my shoulders, shooting one last warning glare at Negan, a promise that said “try me”. 

 

A shower. A shower is all I wanted. But a bath in the river would have to do, it always had to do. I made my way down to the nearby river, rotting blood dripping from my clothes, my hair, I felt horribly disgusting. The air was cooler by the river, the shade blissful in the heat. I glanced around and listened before peeling my clothes off. The sudden chill to the summer breeze by the water tickled gooseflesh on my skin. I untied my long brown hair and with a spear in hand, I waded into the water, poking the river bottom, checking for hidden bear traps or decapitated, snapping Dead heads. My body relaxed a little more when I found the area to be safe. I dunked my head under for a moment to clean the blood and pieces from my hair and Atlas leapt in to ensure make sure I wasn’t drowning. I laughed and pulled him to the shallows to clean his fur and make him wait on shore for me. It wasn’t a shower, but it did the trick, the cool water felt like silk in the summer heat.  
A warning growl and I rested my hand on the spear I stuck in river bottom, my back turned to the shore. A warning bark and I spun, spear above my shoulder and throwing. It struck the tree solidly, inches from Negan’s head. Rage filled his eyes as he glared at the spear still bobbing in the tree, then turned to me. I stood tall, despite being utterly naked in front of him, he could fuck off.  
“Do not sneak up on me if you value your fucking face.” I growled.  
“Excuse me? Did I just fucking hear what I think I heard?” Now I was slightly afraid and I could feel my face drop, but I tried my best to recover.  
“Did, I, Stutter?” I said each word slowly. That’s it, here comes a branded face and a tongue lashing.  
“That’s what I thought.” He strode through the tall grasses on the bank and straight into the river. Atlas took hold of his pant leg, ripping side to side, lunging forward to try to grab hold of flesh instead of cloth. Negan cursed, hand raised, ready to strike. “Atlas! Release! Ruhig! Bleip!” Atlas, thank God, released him, backed up, and laid down whimpering in the tall grass on the bank. Negan trudged through the water towards me, I didn’t try to get away as he grabbed the hair at the base of my head and raised a hand to strike me. I bold facedly looked at him with a look in my eyes that said ‘I dare you to do it’. He stopped at the peak of the swing, looking at me. Trying to make a point, to make me flinch. He pointed at me as he said, “I will shut that shit down!” He growled, then glanced at the rock I held white-knuckled in my hand, a hot rage in my heart. “You know what,” his face fell into a calm, “I will give you one free shot at me, and that was it! I understand you are upset with me putting you on display like a damn show pony, but guess what? I am in fucking charge,” He gripped my face, “And what I say, goes. Now, that was your one free outburst on me—you don’t get another.” Negan released my head with a shake and turned back towards the shore, but not without first giving me a sidelong glance, and I caught him taking in my slender body. I shot my middle finger up despite my warning. Negan chuckled at my brazen act and turned his back to me “Careful, darlin’, I might take that as an invitation.” Then held up the bird as he stepped out of the water, his back still to me. 

He fucking wishes. I finished washing and stepped out of the river to dress and watch the water drift by for a moment. Just a moment of peace for heading back to the compound. Walking back to the compound I spotted Negan playing with some children, a basket ball in his hand. I stopped to watch from afar for a minute. The children smiled and even laughed, no fear of the man. He might be a prick, might be a murderous bastard, but witnessing him taking care of his own, I saw a new side of him. He picked a child up onto his shoulders and I heard him laugh, and for a second I saw the man. He turned in a circle to see me in the distance, losing his smile, and setting the child back down. I whistled to Atlas and made our way towards the compound entrance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to read scenes to music, I am working on creating a playlist for several scenes. ** Indicate a good place to start music.  
> **Love Bug/Baby Bee

We were going on a run, and it would be my first; I’d be lying if I said my insides didn’t feel like they were being braided. I sat next to Negan in the big, black pick up as we traveled with the caravan, Atlas sitting curled at my feet. He said nothing to me, just stared out the windshield, and I was thankful for it. His face, however, rode a calm that unnerved me. His gloved batting hand gripped the steering wheel, a cigarette in his other hand. Why did a man so damn sexy come in the most horrid form of humanity, but then again, I saw a side of him the day before that I never would have guessed I’d see, and I had done things I wished to bury to the ends of the earth. I closed my eyes, gripping the red scarf around my neck that I had found in the trading commons of The Sanctuary. I thought of what the world, what it would be like in the future if the disease was cured and the Dead were no more. How would I live with myself? I don’t think I could, but is any of this worth it, is surviving worth my humanity? Maybe I should just lead myself to slaughter at the hands of a man who is better than versed at it. My eyes glanced to Negan. I thought of him holding Lucille to my face, down on my knees, waiting for the bat to split my skull. I let the thought roll over in my mind, the scenario replaying a few too many times, causing me to break into a sweat. I shook my head and popped the glove box.  
Negan peered over to me at my sudden movement while I rifled through the storage, finally pulling out a few loose CD’s. Thank God. I pulled the one from the few and pushed it into the CD player. I eased back into my seat when the first few chords rang out to Back In Black and let out a sigh.  
“Oh honey,”  
I opened my eyes to his voice.  
“Are you trying to get me to beg for you?” He grinned ear to ear and laughed, clearly enjoying my pick, turned up the volume even.  
I allowed my mind to slip into my darkness and let the music move through me, bobbing our heads to the tune. I knew what I was, I was a wolf, and a wolf, has to run with a pack, this was my pack, and above all--it would keep me alive.  
Negan’s hand slipped over my thigh sending electric shivers up my body. He looked at me with eyes so calculating. “ You are a badass!” He chuckled and gave my leg a quick rub and pat and placed his hand back on the wheel.  
Perhaps, him liking me is what unnerved me so much, the fact that I may be more like him than I thought. We pulled up to the gates of a place called the Hilltop and they let us in, not without fear on their faces. The two vans, our pick up, and the motor cycles flooded in and parked. Negan looked over to me and gave me a quick wink and a smirk, and motioned for me to exit the vehicle. I followed not close behind him, but lingered in his wake. He was a powerful man who knew how to control an audience, and control he did. A crowd quickly gathered to watch as the offering was produced. Then his nasty crony stepped beside me and a shiver passed down my spine, he smelled of cheap cigarettes and alcohol. I cringed when he flashed his grimy smile at me--Simon, I’d come to learn his name. The man who had made frequent trips to my old settlement, I’d come to hate his face.  
He took a deep breath and held out his arms “Mmm, smell that farm air! Hilltop, where the men are men and sheep are scared!" His men laughed with him. "Where is that muthafuckin’ coward, Gregory?” Negan shouted, swinging Lucille up to rest on his shoulder, falling into his body in a leaning swagger that made me watch him very closely. A short, balding man came bustling out of the main house, dressed in such clean clothes, pocket handkerchief and all, he was a pompous puss--I could tell already, and a bitch at that the way he stammered to Negan.  
“Negan! We weren’t expecting you so soon! What brings you?” Gregory nervously smiled.  
My body turned from stiff and straight kneed to a restful, waiting, curious position. Negan snuck a glance over Lucille to look at me and smile before addressing Gregory.  
“Oh Gregory, this ‘aint a fuckin’ ass kissin’, social visit, you know what we are here for.”  
“R-Right, of course!” He looked back and waved to the people waiting along the side of the house with crates of goods, fresh vegetables, scavenged nuts and fruit. A crate of produce was brought up to Negan for him to inspect. “Son, I would wipe that douchy look off your face if I were you.” Negan warned the man carrying the crate and he scampered off, not wanting to linger to face a punishment for his ‘douchy look’, I had to bite my lower lip to keep from giggling. I had to admit, the man was creative in his curses.  
“I do hope these are to standard.” Gregory retorted.  
“‘The fuck?! Excuse me?” Negan leaned forward, and my body nearly went rigid again. “Was that attitude? Are you being a fuckin' snappy Tom to me, Greg?”  
“N-No!”  
“No what?!” Negan growled.  
“No sir!” Gregory corrected.  
Negan’s familiar smile spread across his face. “Well alright then.” Negan stood upright again, glancing around the Hilltop Lucille resting on his shoulder. “Anything here I should know about, Greg?”  
“No, sir.” Gregory shook his head, looking at the ground.  
Negan smirked, turning to his men and twirled a gloved finger in the air, a motion that told the men to spread out. “I hope, for your sake, you’re not keeping things from me Gregory.”  
He turned to me and held out his fee arm, “Walk with me.”  
When I didn’t take his arm immediately, his eyes narrowed, asking me if it were wise I defy him in front of Gregory, so I took his arm, forced a smile, and his smile returned. "That man is a god damn useless cunt." Negan said as we walked the yard. His body towered above me, but perhaps that was just his attitude and the swagger he carried with him everywhere, as he sauntered across the Hilltop grounds. I tried not to stand too close to him as we walked the Hilltop, but he just reeled me in tightly close to him; Atlas tight to my other side. His smell was intoxicating and again, my body tried to betray me. His touch was strong, yet, I strangely didn’t feel threatened, even yesterday when he had grabbed me for blatantly disrespecting him, I never felt threatened. He however, did intimidate me often, not only with his ‘fuck you’ attitude, but his swagger, and physical attractiveness that I couldn’t help but take note.  
“Now that you are on this side of the story, how does it look? How does it feel? See we are not bad people?”  
“You’re forcing them to provide tribute for nothing in return?” I said straight faced.  
“It isn't for nothing, we provide service--protection.” Negan’s brows narrowed  
“These people can protect themselves.”  
“Oh, can they?” His voice raised a bit and he stopped to turn to me. “These walls around this shit hole were weak as dick, and you know why half this community has never seen a fuckin’ walking corpse?! Because my people, made these walls high and strong and you know what, they got comfortable. Thinkin’ we were just gonna fortify the holy fuck out of their compound and that they didn’t owe one red fuckin’ cent. I-don’t-think-so. Your little community? Well if it weren’t for us, you all would have been gone months ago! You were all so lucky enough that we took out an entire herd before they swarmed your little shit patch. So, do you think these services should be provided for free?”  
I had no idea. And I had no response. My people hadn’t the training to deal with a herd of the Dead, but they did, Negan and his men took care of it. He could tell I was connecting the dots in my head, thinking about why he does what he does, and he chuckled about it. I shot an angry look at him. “Oh, and that entitles you to kill people?”  
“Honey,” He put his hands on his knees and looked me in the eyes, “You do not know the shit I’ve seen, you have no idea what I have had to do to keep my fucking people alive, I’m sure you have lost several people if you’ve made it this long, yes?”  
I nodded.  
“Then you know well enough that I have too, and you know what else? We have never had problems with raiders since I started bashing skulls! So, you tell me? I feel like I am doing a damn good job, keeping so many people alive.”  
Holy fuck, was I understanding a mad man’s justification for murder and power? Or was I realizing a mad man’s broken fight for survival?  
“You take more than what you need.” I gritted through my teeth.  
“It’s the cost of business, sweetheart.” Negan drew and stood back up and walked ahead of me. We walked along the wall, me staying ten or so steps behind Negan, watching his men pick through houses, taking odds and ends that meant something to someone in the houses. Then I saw him--Simon. The piece of shit had a woman by the hair and was dragging her out of a cellar. She screamed and cried, her cries sounded too familiar--my mind flashed me images of blood and torn flesh, and my mother and the people who in one way or another, fed her to the Dead. Those screams, they sounded as her screams did. More blood, choking on it, swimming in it. My mother--being ripped apart, her screams. Rage boiled and coursed through me fast as lightning, breath and body trembling, and I rushed him. He had her pinned against a wall by her hair and was trying to undress her, trying to pull her pants off. I was quick and silent as I exploded from the shadows and jump kicked him off of the terrified woman.  
He hit the ground hard, falling out of the shadows and into the revealing light. “What-In-The-Fuck!” Simon roared. “Packen!” I commanded to Atlas, and he raced forward, grabbing Simon by the shoulder. I drew my knife, and it had his name on it. Guns flew up, once again aimed for my head. Panic for Atlas tore through me “Atlas! Come!” Atlas immediately released Simon and sat behind me, barking and growling. Simon, with a shoulder out of place, lunged for me and I dodged the assault, swiping my blade up across his cheek. Scarlet flowed. He hissed in anger and gripped his face, blood dripping down his cheek and pulled his .38 special, pointing it at my head. The citizens of Hilltop backed away, some fleeing from possible bullet fire. Negan jogged out from between two buildings and took in the sight. He looked up to the sky and let Lucille fall to his side.  
“Now what in the actual fuck is going on?!”  
No one spoke.  
He ran a hand down his face, “Oh you have got to be fuckin’ kidding me? What happened?!”  
“He tried to rape that woman.” I angled my head towards the woman still in the alley, her clothes a shamble, cloth torn where he tried to grab her. Negan peered into the shadows to see her, scared and crying. I glanced from Simon in time to see Negan’s face contort into complete rage, but it wasn’t a volcanic rage one could expect, but a quiet, white-hot rage, that stilled my heart. When I dared a glance back to Simon-I believe his heart stopped as well.  
Negan disappeared into the shadows to pull the woman to her feet, dusting her off and walking her up the steps of the house until she was inside. He turned to us, guns still pointed at me. “Put your goddamn guns down!” He roared but I still kept my blade ready, my body waiting to pounce. “Have I ever, and I mean ever, condoned rape as okay?!”  
“No” His men spoke as one voice- complete unison, all except Simon who was now trembling.  
“That’s right,” he smirked, but it wasn’t one from humor, it was one of musing, the turning of wheels in his head of what he was going to do exactly. “No.” He spoke to Simon, mere inches from his face. He turned back to the crowd, “Rules. We have rules for a reason! You are not a man at all if you think that this is perfectly okay, to break the rules--to rape.” He turned back to the two of us, “So, Simon, what punishment do you think you deserve?”  
Simon’s mouth moved but nothing came out.  
“Speak!” Negan commanded.  
“I’m-I’m sorry, Negan. It won’t happen again.”  
Negan let out a long whistle before saying, “Now Simon, you are one of my top guys,” Negan slipped an arm around him and he looked me dead in the eyes, seeing the anger, the flame that danced in them. “How am I supposed to set an example, if one of my head guys thinks he can fuck around and go without punishment? If you act up without punishment, then I have guys under you falling out of order--then, Simon, it’s mother fucking anarchy.” Negan sucked in his bottom lip then grinned and patted Simon on the arm. “You know what, Simon?” He slipped his arm away and shoved him closer towards me. “I know, the perfect punishment for you.”  
Simon’s lip quivered as he waited for the result.  
Negan’s eyes flicked to me, “Take care of him, honey.” He said with a nod.  
I allowed the innermost darkness to seep out into a bloodthirsty smile. Simon’s eyes flicked to me and raised his gun again. I flung my dagger catching his gun sending my intended bullet into the soil. I raised my second blade and sunk it deep into his hand holding the gun. His scream was music to my ears. I was going to extinguish this filth. He stumbled back on his heels and fell to the ground, clutching his bloody hand. I placed my boot on his throat and ripped the blade out of his palm and sunk it into his shoulder. He screamed again. The men and woman watched as I took my time, allowing them to learn more about me, what I could do, what I was. The Hilltop citizens watched with held breaths.  
“Say it.” I crooned to him.  
“Say what?” Simon spat at me. My face twisted in anger, and in turn, I twisted my blade in his shoulder, his scream echoing off the building walls.  
“Say it.” I hissed  
“I-I’m sorry.” He whimpered.  
“So she can hear you.” I leaned in, placing more weight on the knife.  
“I’m sorry!” He screamed.  
I straightened above him. “Good.” I smiled and took a glance to Negan whose eyes were lit with amusement and interest. I yanked the blade from Simon’s shoulder spilling blood across the grass and turned to walk away as Simon moved to sit up, gripping his bleeding shoulder.  
“Fuckin’ bitch!”  
**I pursed my lips and spun on my heels, my blade leaving my fingertips and sinking into Simon’s forehead. I strutted forward to reclaim my blade, pulling it from bone. “Someone clean this bitch-ass up!” I ordered to Negan’s men, and they listened. I passed by Negan, his eyes lit with euphoria, his tongue running over his lips. I passed him as I cleaned my knives off on Simon’s handkerchief and tossed it aside, sheathing my blades.  
I could feel Negan falling into a swagger behind me and Atlas, Lucille resting on his shoulders as I walked back to the pickup. I opened the door and ordered Atlas in, prepared to swing myself in, when Negan pushed the door shut and grabbed me by one back pants pocket and drug me to the side of the van facing the wall. He backed me against the van, dropped Lucille, grabbed me under my thighs and lifted me up. My breath caught, and I smirked looking into his eyes, so full of wild hunger. His lips crashed onto mine and my body arched to him, pressing against him. My legs wrapped around his torso, and my arms behind his neck as I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slip across my own. His taste, his scent, it drove me insane. I moaned into his mouth and I could feel him smile under my lips. “You’re a fuckin’ bad ass.” He said into my neck as he kissed and bit my throat. “A sexy as fuck, genuine, badass.” He bit down on my neck a little harder and I moaned louder. I pulled his hair back so that I could kiss his mouth and lick his lips. His teeth caught my bottom lip and another moan from me. He lowered my legs just a little so that my hips fell on his and I could feel his hardening cock, swell under his pants. “I could fuck your lights out.”  
“Is that a suggestion? Are you begging?” I asked under hooded eyes.  
“I don’t beg, sweetheart.” He hoisted me back up and I licked the length of his neck, finally, at last, eliciting a groan from him.  
“We’ll see.”  
I would be his end. Maybe he would be mine. Because something about his darkness fascinated me; and the beauty within it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The origins of Negan's memorable red scarf.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to read scenes to music, I am working on creating a playlist for several scenes. ** Indicate a good place to start music.  
> ** Heavy Games/Portugal. The Man

** I was riding the erotic high of killing Simon. I had practically ridden in Negan’s lap the whole way back to the compound, kissing him, making him swerve on the road. Making him laugh when I reached for his throbbing cock. We had exploded into his apartment and yanked off my clothes save my underwear and bra. Negan picked me up and tossed me onto the bed while he stripped off his clothes and sprung onto me, his pants only halfway undone. His body weight on me felt heavenly. I gripped his tattooed arms as he pressed his still clothed cock to the apex of my thighs. I bit my lip to keep from begging, I would not beg for him. His hand fell to that spot instead and he rubbed and massaged me until I was moaning again. I reached my hand under his belt and gripped his cock and paused to the size of it. I looked up at him to which he just grinned. I bit my lip and gave a gentle stroke which had his breath seizing. I giggled and removed my hand as he did. His lips clashed with mine once again. Lips, teeth, tongue, I let him explore me and my taste. And I enjoyed every second of it.  
It took nearly all of my strength to finally press an all too weak hand to his chest and pushed gently up. He stopped kissing me and grinding his hips on me and just looked at me. The fog in my mind was finally clearing. He respected my request and rolled off of me. “Well, darlin’, you are hot as fuck, and you stabbing a bastard I thought was my right-hand man today, that makes me harder than a fuckin’ diamond. So, what am I gonna do about this?” He pointed to the clearly hard dick in his pants and I smirked.  
“You’ve been around the block enough, Negan, you know what to do. I’ll give you some privacy.” I turned on my heels to the bathroom.  
“Gonna leave me out here, blue ballin’. No freaky deaky for Negan.”  
With my hand on the door I grinned at him, “I’m sorry, was that complaining I heard, maybe begging?”  
He fell silent, hiding his teeth in a closed smile.  
“Mmm, that’s what I thought?” I smirked and closed the door.  
I locked it and fell against the door, hands on my face. Shame.  
I pushed the hair out of my face and reached for my pounding heart. How the holy hell was this shit happening?  
I let a tear roll down my face. Atlas had followed me into the bathroom before I locked myself from everything else. He nudged my hand with a strong, long snout trying to comfort me as another tear fell. Fuck my life. What was I doing? Not only was he about twenty years older than me, he was certified crazy. Oh God, Oh God. He was a murdering sociopath, no lying about that--but I had killed people too, who was to say my sins were better than his. Simon--I wasn’t backed into a wall when I killed him. I took pleasure in it even. I was a killer too. It felt as if my body was working against all common sense in my head. I gave in to him, and I would have welcomed it had my brain not screamed stop. But why? Before, I knew the man as a psychotic killer with no purpose except to serve himself. But now, I saw that he did care for his people, a lot of people, a large group of people need correction from time to time, and Simon...He had allowed for me to take that kill--granted it to me willingly, regardless of knowing how much Simon was worth in his outfit, for how much I longed to kill him. And again, I was reasoning with myself. I shook my head and closed my eyes. I was losing my mind.  
I braced my hands on a sink that didn’t work and looked up into the mirror, staring back at the grey eyes in the mirror. I was not the same person I used to be, and I would have to someday let that part of me go. I was also losing sight of what I wanted: to survive. What was keeping me from protecting myself by remaining with his group? Staying alive. That was the goal, but what about humanity? I looked at Atlas. A wolf didn’t apologize for eating the deer, a wolf didn’t apologize for killing a rival pack, a wolf did not apologize for living. I gave Atlas some scratches and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. 

 

And I would survive.  
I would live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to kill Simon early vs. the show, because who else hates that creepy fuck?


	6. Chapter 6

I woke to the empty apartment, again. I turned over to his side of the bed, untouched. I pulled myself up and pushed my hair out of my face. I sat in the large bed, in a sea of blankets, a war going on in my mind and body. I dared stepping out of my cocoon of warmth and dressed. A note on the table caught my attention as I tugged my pants on. It read:  
Fuck you sleep in late, wake up, get your ass out and meet the people. No supply run today.  
-You’re Favorite Asshole 

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I could see my brain. I pulled on the rest of my clothes, tucking my red scarf into my jacket to keep me warm against the morning frost and chill, and left the apartment with Atlas. I was a presence in the halls. Everyone knew me by my gleaming knives on my hips and the big, black dog at my side. After my display with Simon yesterday, people knew me well, and his men stayed the fuck away from me. I went down to the communal area of the warehouse, where people traded and bartered the odds and ends they found or stole off of someone. I wandered the tables and tried to use a smile, and surprisingly, people greeted me with smiles back. I knew, they were thanking me for killing the bastard, Simon. But others kept their distance.  
I quickly grew bored of the communal area and left to get a breath of fresh air. I had gone to the armory and picked up a compound bow and some broadhead arrows. The woods seemed like a great way to spend the day and clear my mind. Men outside were smoking and making raunchy jokes, but it was worth dealing with to seem the squirm under my gaze. Negan rounded the corner and the men quickly dropped to a knee. I looked at them, fucking bending a knee to him, fuck that. He smiled as he walked up to me, understanding the challenge I was presenting by not kneeling. His new right-hand guy, wade, an ugly mother fucker, stepped forward to force me to kneel, but as he reached for my shoulder, I gave him a look that told him he shouldn’t touch me otherwise. Negan laughed and stepped forward, “It’s fine, Wade.” Wade stepped back leaving me with Negan. He peered over my shoulder at the compound bow. “Where do you think your sweet little ass is goin’ with that piece?” Negan chewed on his cigar.  
“Hunting.” My eyes narrowed.  
“Wow! Would you look at this!” He turned and looked over at his men, “Taking initiative,” He laughed and turned back to me, “ I knew I made the right decision. Who are you hunting.”  
A look of disgust came over my face.  
“Harley! Chill the actual fuck out, I’m joking!” He leaned back, Lucille swinging from his hand.  
“Deer, maybe wild pig.” I said pushing past him, “Fingers crossed I don’t get mauled by a boar or a Walker!” I said my back to them, holding up crossed fingers. If I were honest, I didn’t need luck, I was a great shot, had protection, and needed a fucking break from this place.  
I crept through the trees, the forest floor covered in dried leaves from last fall, taking care to place my steps. The bow in hand felt familiar and my mind flashed me images of my father and I in the woods, deer hunting in the fall green and brown paint that my mother painted on our faces before the hunt. I smiled and knelt amongst the trees and took my canteen. I spilled a little water onto the forest dirt and scooped some into my fingers, covering my eye lids, cheeks, drawing a line from my forehead down to my chin. I picked up my bow again as Atlas gave a low, mellow growl. A Walker. I pulled a knife from my sheath and approached it. Before I could strike, a bullet whizzed through its head. I fell into a crouch, my heart thundering in my chest. I took off into the woods, Atlas at my side. I rounded a large sycamore tree and crouched. I pulled an arrow with a deadly tip from the quiver and notched it, holding the bow at a draw. Then I heard it and rolled my fucking eyes. His god damned whistle. Could I not have one moment of solace? He appeared at the top of the hill. Only him. My arrow notched. Him standing in front of it. I thought back to my original plan for “joining” him. Thought of his death. He stood at the top of the rise looking around for me, Lucille resting on his shoulder—a familiar silhouette. I could end it all. I could kill him. I steeled my face and nerves and sat up, pulling back further on the bow. I took a deep intake of breath. When I exhaled, he would be dead. I watched him in front of my arrow for a minute, two minutes. I took a few more breaths. I was screaming at myself now. Release you fucking coward! The bow string left my finger tips and the arrow hurtled towards him, and stuck into a branch just above his head.  
Negan ducked yelling “What in the flying fuck?!” I stepped out from the sycamore and he settled down.  
I couldn’t do it. I could have, but I didn’t. “Was that Negan, being scared?” I giggled.  
“Whatthefuckever.” He scoffed. “Girl, you have got a mighty large sack on you to keep taking head shots at me.”  
“Keeps you on your toes, makes you remember that your life isn’t yours to keep, prick.”  
He held my chin, “God damn, you have a mouth on you.” He laughed  
The way he looked at me, right here, right now. His green eyes were piercing yet caressing. Fuck me. My body stirred in a way that it hadn’t in a long while. I gently pulled my chin from him and pointed to the branch above his head, for the arrow lodge in it. He reached up and pulled the arrow and handed back to me for me to loosely re-notch. Atlas wagged his tail at Negan which I furrowed my brow at confused.  
“Aw look,” Negan knelt to Atlas, “The ole’ fuckin’ beasty is happy to see me.”  
“What are you doing here, Negan?” I rested a hand on my hip.  
He stood upright again, and leaned against the tree, “I missed you.” He grinned.  
I rolled my eyes and moved to walk away but his hand caught my wrist and I couldn’t help but smile as he reeled me in. His hands gently found the sides of my face and his kiss was neither soft nor rough, but needing, as well as patient, waiting for me to reject him. But I didn't. I kissed him back hesitant at first, but it felt so damn good. My hands found and gripped the sides of his jacket. My breathing became ragged and wanting. His hands trailed from my face to my breast and lower back, one hand kneading my breast while the other sat on the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. All at once I knew exactly what I was doing, while questioning myself and my actions. But I liked it, being with him in this way, and other's I supposed, the bastard and his sarcastic wit was growing on me. We were interrupted by Atlas’s quiet 'woofs'. I stopped kissing him to look over my shoulder. Another Walker. I leaned back from Negan and smiled, wiping away the mud that I smeared on his face in our moment. I willed myself to pull away from Negan. I raised my bow and took the shot and turned back to Negan, recalling his use of a gun to kill the Walker.  
“I thought you showed preference towards—” I cut off because saying the bat’s name out loud felt so weird to me.  
“Yeah well.” He raised up his jacket to show me the pistol he kept tucked in his pants. My eyes lingered on his waistline, and he noticed it. I turned away to recover my arrow.  
I ripped the arrow from the rotting corpse and called Atlas to my side, looking up to Negan still perched by the tree on the slope of the hill. “You commin’?” I asked, surprised in myself for extending an invitation, but after yesterday, after last night…  
“I’m above grunt work like that.” He scoffed.  
I shrugged my shoulders and turned towards the woods. “You wanna tell me why you’re really out here then, and why despite me taking head shots at you, I am still alive?”  
I re-notched the arrow and continued into the woods.  
He followed at a distance, trying to be aware of his steps as I was. The woods was silent today, nothing stirred in the brush or the trees, but the way the light filtered through the trees was perfect. The woods peeled back to overlook a road, from high above the valley. Negan approached my side as I pointed out the caravan of vehicles coming our way.  
“Looks like there’s gonna be a mother fucking party!” He grabbed his radio and spoke into it. “We have a caravan of cars headed our way, fucking take care of it.”  
Watching the gleam from the cars approach Negan gave me a small smack on the ass, “’Kay, lets go.” His voice was serious, and I knew some shit was about to go down.


	7. Chapter 7

Negan and I got back to the compound and he instructed Josef to take Atlas to his room and keep him there. Though hesitant and fearful of Atlas, he did as he was told. I followed Negan to the armory, seeing first hand, him prepare for a “shit storm” as he called it on our way back. I tossed Irene my bow and she handed me my matching pistols that I strapped down on my legs in their holsters, then she handed me a knife throwing belt that I hadn’t see before.  
“Merry fucking Christmas.” Negan whispered in my ear from behind me. I turned to him to see his playful smirk and I nodded to him and took the belt, feeling the sharp edges of my new knives.  
“Here hun, take this one as well.” Irene said as she handed me a huge military grade pump action 12-gauge shotgun.  
“Holy fuck!” I exclaimed. “Is this really necessary?”  
She gave me a look that didn’t need explaining and I turned to leave but a question popped into my head that begged instant gratification.  
“Irene,”  
She turned to look at me, sweat dripping from her brow, two boxes of ammunition in hand.  
“How many people live here?”  
She thought for a moment before answering, “Around two-hundred, two-fifty.”  
My eyes grew, and I turned from her, shotgun in hand. Two hundred plus people lived here, this was the biggest settlement by far that I have heard of since the Outbreak. I looked to Negan who was giving orders by the trucks. He kept them alive. He continued to keep them alive, and was making “business” arrangements for them, even though he did more than enjoy the credit and even had people fucking kneeling for him.  
The troops broke away to load up and I caught Negan looking over those for me. “Harley, c’mon, get your sweet ass in the truck.” I loaded into the black pickup as usual, but this time, the big moving truck went ahead of us, along with two motorcycles, before we fell in line.  
“Here’s how this is going to work,” He told me as he focused on the road, “We stop them from getting any closer to the compound, strike a deal, half their stuff, and they can continue, if they don’t want to pay up, they need to fuckin’ turn around, if they refuse, we have to kill one of them.”  
My throat went dry and I fought with the images of two-hundred people at the compound and killing a person to keep these strangers away. I had nothing to say, I just nodded. Negan looked at me for my absence in retorts and just smirked, “So you understand? Good girl.”  
We took up both lanes as we met the caravan of cars on the road and blocked the road when we came to a stop. Those in the vehicles ahead of us got out first to meet them, those were his main guys, Wade and Gavin and a few others to make them look tougher. I watched as the mental warfare took place. I could barley see between the vehicles ahead of us as the caravan came to a stop. The driver of the lead car got out and walked up to the two men, introductions, now—business. I could see the leader of the caravan shake his head. Negan set a hand on my leg and smiled at me as he kicked open his door, me exiting the truck quickly after him. I hung back while Negan made his grand appearance. A few other drivers and passengers got out of the vehicles from both sides as Negan introduced himself and Lucille. The group from the caravan had vehicles that were Walker-proofed with steel plates, that would explain why they were so detectable in the sunlight from the woods. They also did not look like the type of people that did any good. They had the look of wild abandon in their eyes, a recklessness that I did not like.  
The leader of the caravan was tall and lanky, with mid-length blond hair. He held a rifle (of all things). The man beside him was shorter, more muscular, with light brown skin and shaved head with a tattoo that said ‘trust’. “What seems to be the hold up gentlemen?” Negan crones.  
“We won’t give up half our stuff.” The tall blond said. “We have families.”  
Negan looked around at the cars behind him, “Funny—I don’t see any women and children.”  
The blond’s throat bobbed. “They are there, we are not giving you half our stuff.”  
Negan puts a hand to his head, “Holy shit fuck, where are my god damn manners, Hi,” He reaches out his hand, “I’m Negan.”  
Both men paled at his name. Paled. The blond kept his hands on his gun, not daring to touch his hand.  
“Well, you know what, since you wanna be a rude little prick, we are gonna take what we want anyways, and you can turn around and head back up whatever shit creek you came from.”  
“And I said, we are not giving you our stuff.” The blond was brave, but fucking stupid. Negan bit on his lip, laughing. He brought Lucille down from his shoulder, stretching his swinging arm. “Leave now.” The blond barked more orders.  
The shorter male, slowly reached for a pistol in his pants and I stepped up next to Negan, and leaned into my shotgun, my barrel pointed at him.  
“If I were you, I’d fingertip that gun and put it on the ground.” I commanded.  
Negan chuckled, “Really? You know, this didn’t have to be this way.” Our men filtered out of the cars, the vans, the trucks and stood by us, guns being pulled from both sides. “You come into our territory, in a very threatening god damn manner, mind you, and you expect me not to incite a tax? Com’on.” Negan said still smiling. “Put the rifle down, and instruct your people to remove themselves from the vehicles.”  
The leader of the caravan stood there, unflinching, maybe he was scared still.  
“Does everyone see this bitch?” Negan poked fun at him, “You deaf, son? Or just fucking stupid.”  
I spun my gun on the leader and pumped the shotgun.  
“Maybe scared shitless.” I said to Negan who proceeded to laugh. “Get them out! Now!” I barked and took a step forward. Negan let the end of his bat hit the pavement allowing it to make an eerie, almost tick-tick-tick sound as he picked it up and set it down.  
“Time’s runnin out, every minute more I have to wait to see some asses hustle out of those fucking cars I’m gonna kill someone.”  
At that, the leader finally looked to the man with the head tattoo and waved him back to spread the word. The leader set down the rifle, and as he was doing so, reached for a gun in his pants. I pulled up my shotgun and pulled the trigger, blasting him with buckshot. Blood sprayed all over Negan and I as he fell to the ground. Sure enough, there were no families in this caravan, they were driving the vehicles of raiders. “Mother fucker!” Negan cursed as the caravan decided they wanted a fight and pulled guns. I fired the shot gun once more before being shoved by Negan to get behind the cars. We were too far to be making any clear shots with the shot gun so I snatched the rifle from one of Negan’s men and braced across the hood of the car in front of us, peering through the scope.  
“I need a fucking cigarette.” I yelled to Negan above the gun fire.  
“Are you fucking kidding?”  
I peered through the scope and narrowed in and pulled the trigger, discharged the cartridge, and shot again, discharging the second cartridge. Negan held a cigarette to my lips and I drew a long drag into my lungs, blowing the smoke back out as I dropped another. I dropped five when they decided to fall back to their vehicles towards the back of the caravan, escaping while they could. The Saviors stepped forward and I moved with them, abandoning the rifle and my cigarette and pulling my knives. The few who managed to get away I could see through the wind shield. I locked eyes with one of them, and for a moment, I thought he knew me, as I thought I knew him. I stared at the windshield until they pulled around to flee I the opposite direction as us.  
Bodies littered the road. No one had to die, but I saw the dilemma that the Saviors were faced with, they didn’t have to initiate a fight for all this blood to be spilt. I returned to the blond leader, dead, in a pool of his blood. The others checked the cars left behind, getting into them to take them back to the compound. A heavy hand fell on my shoulder and I looked up to see Negan.  
“The balls you have, rival my own.” He smirked at me, then glanced down to the leader of the caravan, and whistled, seeing his guts spilled on the road. “Holy fuck that is some gross ass shit, look you can see is mother fuckin’ intestines.”  
I turned away. I had enough for this today. “I’m gonna go wait in the truck.” I called over my shoulder and retreated to the pickup for quiet. I watched the men and women gather their bearings and soon, all of us plus extra vehicles were headed towards the Sanctuary.


	8. Chapter 8

I went to bed earlier than normal that night, waking early the next morning when the blue light still casted itself through the window of Negan’s apartment. I continued to think of the shot I could have taken the day before, the shot that would have ended it all. It was a constant battle in my mind. One second I could see Negan living up to his groups name, then I see him cracking skulls with Lucille and I had to ask myself what the cost of the risk was and if it was worth it. I sat up in bed and brought my legs to my chest. The way I was feeling about him was only getting worse, and soon I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to try again at all.  
Tonight. I would try to kill him one more time tonight, and if I couldn’t then I guess fate would present me my answer. I fought the darkness every day and he only begged it out of me the longer I stayed. I stepped out from the warm blankets and dressed, slipping two blades under the pillows before leaving. This time I really wanted to be alone. I left Atlas in the apartment and walked down to the bike yard with my twin pistols and new knife belt. The men sized me up when I got down there, for rightful reason I suppose, because even though I had more than proven myself—I had just set a trap for their leader.  
“Joey, are you going to step the fuck aside so I can grab a fuckin’ bike?” I spat. He weighed the options in his head, but I wasn’t going to wait around all damn day. I pushed him and the other big lug aside and sat on top of a black Harley Davidson sportster. I smiled and brushed my thumb along the emblem on the gas tank. “Miss you Daddy.” I said for myself and turned the bike on, rolling the throttle in my hand and kicking it into first, I pulled away as Negan walked out of the loading dock door, fuck that man was everywhere. I shared a tense glance with him before he turned to Joey and chewed his ass. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to take a bike by myself yet, but that was Joey’s problem now.  
I rode to the town nearest to scavenge—but I knew there would be nothing to find, not this close to the compound. I pulled the bike up to an alley and backed it in and shut it off, hoping any rouges in the area didn’t hear me. I looked up the building beside me and saw many hand holds, many bricks that weren’t evenly placed, widow bars and window ledges. I balanced on the seat of the bike and leapt to the nearest hand hold. I laughed at myself, who struggled for a moment—I hadn’t done this for a quick minute. I pulled myself up eventually, grabbing ahold of another, then hoisting myself up to grab a window ledge, now I had a foot hold and climbing went a lot faster. I scaled the side of the building grabbing the side of the roof, nearly falling as I grabbed onto loose shingles. My heart thudded against my chest as I re-steadied myself and pulled myself to the rooftop. Once up high, I looked down and laughed, dusting off my hands. I could have died, and it made me giggle to myself, doing something fucking stupid like that would have very simply ended all of my worries. I shook the thought from my head and sad down on the peak of the roof and removed my backpack.  
I ate an apple and a sandwich while I looked over the rooftops, trying to spot anything interesting. It was quiet and the slight breeze that was playing with my hair felt so good. I pulled on my sun glasses as I stayed perched, taking in the suns rays. I could see the factory compound from here, barely above the trees. I knew any moment the sound of engines and a squawking Negan was going to ruin my peace. I sighed and stood finally, ruining it for myself before someone else. As I scanned the roof tops I could see a rooftop garden, for me it was worth inspecting, especially being so tucked away and hidden. It was two houses over. I could jump from roof to roof, but I could also find loose shingles underfoot and fall. I pulled my back pack back on and gauged the risk. The roofing appeared to be newer. I leaned my head sided to side, popping the tension in my neck before backing up a bit. There were also window bars on that side of the building, if I fell, I could grab those or at least grab them to slow my fall. I loosed a breath and ran forward. I ran to the edge of the roof and leapt, feeling more loose tiles give way under me as I flew through the air. My heart stopped for a moment, then my toe connected with the roof. I bent my knees and fell into a roll. I rested on my back laughing again, “Stupid, crazy, bitch.” I told myself as I pulled myself up and sure enough I heard engines. I rolled my eyes and stood up, but panic filled my veins when I realized, it was not Negan. I laid flat on my stomach as I watched the survivors from the caravan drive past. I could see the man with the tattooed head in one of the passenger seats. They had found us. The didn’t stop here though, they continued through the town, probably scavenging as well. Once they were gone from sight I steadied my breath and made the final leap, my hands seizing the sides of the roof top garden. I pulled myself in and heaved in air. I pulled the radio from my backpack that I had turned off and radioed straight to Negan—making sure to keep the volume low.  
“Negan,” I said into the radio, “We’ve got a problem.” I peered over the wall and saw them parked a ways down. I waited for what seemed to be forever for his response. Then finally he spoke.  
“You bet your sweet tits we have a problem, thinkin’—”  
“Shut the fuck up, Negan, the survivors from the caravan, they are here, in the town.”  
There was silence on the other side of the line. Probably him yelling for people to get their asses in trucks and loading guns into hands. “What the fuck is your position?” He said through the radio.  
“They haven’t seen me, I’m on a roof top, I can’t see what they are doing but—”  
“Stay where you are.” He said more sternly than normal, and the radio went silent. I dared another peak over the ledge, their cars were still there, but I could not tell whether they were still in their cars. I leaned my back against a wall while I waited in tense silence, glancing around the garden. Tomatoes, peas, lettuce, herbs, all grew here in raised boxes, the plants had grown big and wild without the proper hand tending them. I pulled a snap pea from the vine and crunched on it while I waited.  
After about ten minutes, I heard the motorcycles and trucks. They came from a different direction, down one of the side streets from the other side of town and barreled down the road towards the parked cars. I saw the cars parked quickly come back to life and thrown into gears in a panic, they took off down the road, Negan’s men hot on their asses. I waited until the sound of them drifted off then turned towards the fresh produce. I gathered most of it into my back pack, leaving some for a secret stash later, or to seed and continue the cycle. When I was pulling my back pack on, I saw the return of Negan’s trucks. He locked up the breaks when he saw me perched on the roof and got out of the pickup. He rested his hands on his hips, waiting for me, his eyes shaded by sunglasses.  
I looked for a way down and found the sidewalk lamp was the best way. I got a head start and ran, stepping onto the ledge, and flinging myself at the post, my arms hugged the post and my cheek hit the post hard, but I had stuck the landing, and slid down the post, thankful when my feet touched the ground. Negan pulled his sun glasses off and removed his cigar, “Christ, I swear every time I see you, you have some other trick to show us. Where the fuck were you raised? A fuckin’ military camp?” He laughed putting his cigar back between his lips.  
“Close.” I said and shoved my back pack into his chest as I strode off to reclaim the motorcycle I stowed away. I didn’t waist time to wait for the others, or ask questions about the surviving caravan, I just kicked the bike into gear and took off back towards the compound.  
I waited for Negan in his apartment, but hours rolled by without him barreling through the door, it was late and the sun had fallen by the time I heard his whistle outside of the door and the rhythmic knocks on the door. I stood from the bed, nervous about whether or not I had the strength to kill him tonight, I hoped his words would be rough so it would make it easier for me. He walked in, instantly smiling when he saw me. He closed the door, setting Lucille down next to it. “So,” He turned to me, letting his arms fall to his sides, “Wanna tell me why in the actual fuck you thought it was okay to take one of my bikes?”  
I told myself to be strong, to use the big mouth of mine. “You’re not my fucking keeper!” I spat.  
“hmm, lets see,” He strode closer too me, slowly, “I feed you, I clothe you, I give you a safe place to sleep, and I give you fucking presents. Someone is being an unappreciative little shit.” He spoke toe to toe with me. God, his scent again, something about his demeanor, the way he smelled, the way he took what he fucking wanted, I loved all of it. I looked up at him, looked at his parted lips.  
“Go to hell.” I whispered.  
“When I die, probably.”  
He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. His scent was everywhere mixed with that of his cigars, driving me crazy. A moan slipped from my lips and into his mouth and he smirked under my kiss, knowing how betraying my body was to him. “Oh baby, I’m gonna enjoy fucking the hell out of you.” He simpered, and I arched my back. He spun me around and took me by the throat and I nearly went into instinctive defense, until his teeth found my neck and he nipped and bit. A sudden intake of air into my lungs as his hand slipped beneath my pants and my body went loose and taut all at the same time.  
“Mmmhmm, that’s what daddy likes.” He hummed. “You goin’, let me put it in? Gonna let me fuck your brains out?”  
“Yes, Sir.” I swallowed against his hand still braced on my throat. I could feel his smile against my neck, the scruff on his face as his fingers began to make circles at the top of thighs. I gasped at the feel of his calloused fingers on my most intimate areas.  
Negan removed his hand from my pants and scooped me up, taking me to the bed. “Beg for my cock, honey.” He crooned as he undressed me, then himself, never taking his eyes off my naked body.  
“You first.” I said as I bit my lower lip pulling myself off the bed, standing toe to toe with him, our naked bodies brushing. I reached a hand out to his shaft, wrapping my hand around the smooth feel of him. His eyes closed, and he let out a sigh as I stroked him. I ran my hand up and down a few times before running a thumb over his head. His cock throbbed to my touch and I took pleasure in being able to make him do that. I released his dick and he watched me under hooded eyes as I ran my fingers down his muscled back. I circled him, like he circled his prey, until I was in front of him again. I would kill him, tonight, and I wanted to remember everything about this kill. I stared up at him then turned so that my back rested against him, his dick brushing against my ass. I reached a hand up and around his head so that he would lean into me. His teeth found my neck again and I hissed as he bit down.  
Negan growled and grabbed my hip in one hand and pressed me down on the bed with the other. He touched my back, my ass, my hips, kissing my skin, then flipped me to my back. A crooked smile crossed his face as he crawled between my legs, on top of me. His cock was just as big as his attitude and I watched as he slammed it into me.  
Pleasure exploded behind my eyes as he slammed into me over and over, urging me to say his name.  
“Fuck me, Negan” I smiled between thrusts  
“Someone was disobedient today.” He chided  
“Punish me, Sir.”  
“Oh, I’ll punish you.” He sat upright and thrusted into me harder and faster, eliciting a scream from me as he pounded. Moans, screams, grunts, growls, sex with him was beyond erotic and beyond anything I had ever experienced. His mouth fell on mine and his tongue fell between my lips, exploring my taste further. Drinking me in. I danced my tongue into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip as my tongue exited. He released a moan into my mouth that felt so victorious. I was making Negan, moan, beg, want.  
It was now or never. I braced a hand on the inside of his ribs and clenched my pelvic walls around him, which had him stop mid trust to lean his head back and moan out a curse. I pushed up and put him on his back. Working quickly, I lunged to grab the knives I had hidden under the pillows and slipped them across his bobbing throat. He looked into my eyes and considered me—finally seeing what I was—a monster. His hands slowly left my hips as he held them up.  
“Well I’ll be damned, you little vixen.” He smirked, his member still within me as I held his life between my blades.  
I smiled as I finally saw for the first time, an absence of arrogance in his eyes. “You just let the fox in the hen house, baby.” I whispered.  
There it was, at last, fear. So, Negan did have something to fear, but it was just a flicker in his eyes, gone as fast as an ember.  
I quickly lost my smirk as he sat up, me now sitting in his lap, his hands hung limp at his sides, my blades still crossed his throat. We looked face to face, eye to eye, mere inches from each other, each an accomplished killer. “Well, do it, honey.” He smiled. The bastard was smiling at me. I grimaced and pressed my blades tighter to his throat. He hung his head back and chuckled, He didn’t think I’d do it. I nicked him on the neck, just enough to grab his attention and his head shot up again, biting his lip as his blood trickled down his neck. I raised my brows at him. “Do it.” He was serious this time. “I think I’ve deserved it by now.” His green eyes twinkled. I stilled my face, I was done waiting, I was ready to take his life. I let a breath out and tensed my arms as I watched his eyes slowly shut. He sat there, waiting for his death. Do it! I screamed at myself to do it over and, over again. My teeth were grinding at the refusal of my body. Do it!  
His eyes opened, and he stared into my eyes. Seeing the struggle within them. He slowly reached a hand up, my eyes finally welling. His hand gently caressed my face and I leaned into his touch, shutting my eyes. His lips pressed to mine, his throat pressing against my knives. I sobbed and tossed the knives aside. As the blades clattered to the floor, we were tangled in each other’s arms, my fingers bound in his hair as his hands caressed my back, our lips parting for each other’s.  
I couldn’t kill him. No matter how bad I screamed at my hands to pull the blades across his soft flesh, I couldn’t. And now he knew it. He rolled me onto my back and slid in and out of me, drawing gasps of air from my mouth. He knew I wouldn’t kill him, knew that I couldn’t kill him. Our bodies moved together, each wanting the other. It had been so long since I had sex and it took me not long to climax, arching my back, crying out for him. He kissed my jaw and kept a tempo that was good for him until he finally came into me, groaning with his release.  
He sat there, inside me, looking into my grey eyes. His hand pushed the hair out of my face and rested it on the side of my face, before he pulled himself from me and fell to his side of the bed, I rolled over to look at him, to try to piece together what had just happened. He kissed my forehead then settled back looking into my eyes.  
“Why couldn’t I kill you?” I asked him. But I answered the question myself: It was because he was a reflection of myself—a more violent reflection, but nevertheless, I saw my pain reflected in his eyes. A tragic heart, that matched my own. “It’s because you wouldn’t kill me.” He smirked at me, his hair disheveled. “Just like you wouldn’t kill me at the river or in the woods.” He had caught me, and he knew fully well that his life was never in danger tonight. He stared at me and my body, thinking about everything that just happened. “Hot damn, I like you, you know what darlin’,” He grabbed at his chest, “I would even say it was love.” I punched his chest as he chuckled. “You know what? I think we would make it together.”  
“You saying we are good together, Negan?” I said sarcastically rolling my eyes, moving to find a towel to clean myself up and pull some clothes back on. "I just tried to kill you." I sighed.  
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. You could have killed me right here, and damn girl that would have been bad ass on your part, still is! But the point is, you could have, but didn’t. And damn, if that isn't showin' me what side you are on, then I don't know what is. You made your decision tonight--that you are with us...with me.” He got off the bed and pulled his jeans back on and walked across the apartment to me, pulling on one of his white t-shirts, his hand slipping behind my ear. “And just so you are aware, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” He said and kissed my forehead and took a seat at the table, cracking open a beer. It occurred to me, that no matter what, no matter how afraid he was or not, Negan was going to take what he wanted, and not a force on this earth could stop him unless it was a bullet to the brain. It was a turn on. It was safety, security. It was, a partner, in crime. I smirked at the thought of having that someone, that ride or die. I threw a leg over him and sat in his lap facing him. He chuckled. “I understand if you want to go again, my cock is something to behold, but I have to hydrate.” He said taking a swig of his beer.  
“Okay.” I said resting my arms on his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows in question. “I think we’d be good together too.” I smirked.  
“Oh honey”, He smacked my ass, smiling up at me, “I know it for a fact.” 

He took me back to the bed after we had gotten something to eat and showed me sex that I wouldn’t soon forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this one ;)
> 
> Don't worry there is much, much more to come


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like to read scenes to music, I am working on creating a playlist for several scenes. ** Indicate a good place to start music. 
> 
> For this chapter **:  
> Jungle by X Ambassadors 
> 
> (Gonna work on doing the previous chapters too)

Life had turned up for the better here, in the following weeks I had grown not only closer to Negan, but his men as well, and the citizens of the Sanctuary. Negan was finally sharing a bed with me, he had been giving his room to me for my own peace of mind, but after that night where I promised myself to him, we shared a bed ever since. I woke to his arm curled around my torso protectively, his light snoring in my ear, his body warm against mine. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed or him either, but it was a supply run day to the Library and the day couldn’t be wasted. “Negan.” I whispered, but he just nuzzled into my neck more, gripping me tighter. “Negan,” I stroked his arm with a feather light touch, “Supply run today.”  
“Some morning freaky?” he asked, eyes still shut.  
I laughed and reached down between us to touch his morning wood, “I don’t know if she could handle you this morning after last night.” I smiled at him. His eyes slowly flickered open and he rolled towards me to kiss my jaw and my neck, laughing quietly.  
“I’m, sorry,” He spoke, “I should be more gentle, treat her like a lady.” He said as he reached between my legs, petting me.  
“Maybe then.” I smirked.  
He kissed me and climbed on top of me. His kisses were gentle and soothing as his hand rubbed me and prepared me for his huge cock. His finger slipped into me, massaging me, then slipped in another. My breath hitched as he brought those fingers up to his mouth and sucked on them.  
“Negan.” I whispered, and he smiled as he pushed his head against my opening, nudging me gently, then slipping in entirely. I had not fully recovered from last night but he still felt so good. He was gentler than normal—perhaps due to the morning. A knock came on the door.  
“Go away!” He yelled over his shoulder. But the knock came again followed by a swinging door. I yelped, and pulled a pillow in front of my face.  
“Oh Negan! I—a—umm—I”  
“Fat Joey, if you don’t have a fuckin’ video camera, get the fuck out, can’t you see that I am balls deep in pussy here?”  
I heard him stammer for a second longer before closing the door quickly, horrified. Negan laughed, and I removed the pillow from my face laughing back at him. He returned to pumping in and out of me, gently caressing my body and kissing me slowly until I came, the feeling sending shock waves throughout my body, toes curling. He came short there after and we both reluctantly pulled ourselves from bed and dressed after a quick clean up.  
I walked side by side with Negan to the black truck, Atlas on my other side. I reached for the cigar Negan puffed on and took it from his lips to mine for a quick puff and gave it back to him, Negan watching me with an amused smirk. On our way to the pickup Josef nearly bumped into us and he locked eyes with Negan for a moment, then averted his eyes to the ground. “Well, well, well fat Joey,” Negan grinned, “enjoy the show earlier?”  
“I’m so sorry.” Josef said, sneaking a glance at him. “It won’t happen again.”  
“Oh good, make sure it doesn’t, ya fuckin’ Muppet fart. When I say, go away, don’t open the god damn door, unless the fucking compound is on fire.”  
“I’m—I’m sorry, yes Negan.”  
Negan waved him off, “Go wash your ass, fucktard.”  
Josef hurried away from us and out of sight. I touched Negan’s elbow, “You should be easier on him.” I giggled.  
Negan turned to me, placing both hands on the bottom of Lucille while he rested it against the ground, “But if I were to take it easy on my men, do you think they would listen to me? The big softie? Or would they listen to Negan, badass mother fucker who smashes heads in?”  
I rolled my eyes and touched his face, heading to the pickup. I had the familiar shot gun across my lap along with my twin pistols, knives, and plenty of ammo as we prepared to head to the Library.  
“Hey,” Negan leaned over, a smirk on his face as he produced a square case, “I found this, thought it might be your style.” I smiled and grabbed the case, it was a CD, even better—Johnny Cash. My smile got bigger when I asked. “Where did you find this?”  
“Picked it up while on a supply run earlier this week.”  
“I love it, thank you!” I said, and he gave me a wink as I removed the CD from the case and inserted it into the stereo. Not long after the first song started, everyone was finally ready to go. We traveled down the road as a pack, a force to be reckoned with, and I thoroughly enjoyed it since before Negan, I had been wary, tired, unsure of each coming new day and whether I would survive it, but now, now I was a wolf who ran with a pack and it made me feel powerful for the first time in a long time.  
The library was about a thirty-five-minute drive away, so we had time to kill. I looked over to Negan, casually steering the pickup with one hand, his free hand, feeding the cigar to his lips every so often. Heat rushed between my legs thinking about this morning. He caught me staring at him and grinned. I quickly turned away as my embarrassment made my cheeks flush.  
“What is it, darlin’?” He said and leaned over to hook a few fingers in my belt loop and tug me across the bench seat so that his arm could rest around me. I allowed my eyes to close and my head to rest on his shoulder. How is it that I had come to allow myself to trust such a man, to be vulnerable for him, and for him the same. I enjoyed his voice, the raunchy jokes, I found them hilarious, and his wit that I found charming, in an abnormal way. For a moment I imagined us like this, in the world that once was. It sent gooseflesh down my arms, and in a way it made me angry, because we were robbed of everything we could have wanted. My future, his future—we were robbed of it. I thought I might have dozed off on his shoulder for a second, the warm morning sun hitting my face. I opened my eyes, and turned to him. We might have been robbed of a future that we had wanted before—but that didn’t necessarily mean we were robbed of having a future. I set a hand on his leg and rested my head back against him, my braid falling across my shoulder. He grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth and placed a tender kiss on my skin. I smiled and gripped his arm. It was best to enjoy the good moments as they came, because in this world, good moments often passed like the river. They came and went, quickly, so I saved this moment in my memories. 

We were close, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes and taking hold of my shotgun. Negan flicked the butt of his cigar out the window and kept close attention on the surroundings, looking for traps. “Fuck!” Negan yelled and stomped on the brakes, brake lights shinning ahead of us. We just barley missed hitting the van ahead of us, when we looked between the vehicles and saw a horde of the undead. “Well fuck this day.” Negan shifted the pick up into park and turned the ignition off. We could see the library just ahead. Negan and his men filed out of the vehicles and took positions. I jumped out after him, Atlas behind me, and I gave him sharp commands to stay behind me. I lined up with the others, beside Negan, and we opened fire on the horde. Two snipers took position on the moving van while we took out the closer ones. I fired the shotgun first, taking out two or three at a time—depending on how grouped they were, and when I was out of shells, took my pistols and killed in a volley, each bullet hitting its mark. I dropped the magazines, and loaded two more. I looked to my left to see Negan, Lucille again resting on his shoulder, his right hand extended, pistol in hand. The sound of the bullets discharging was like that of a war zone. The gold casings flew from guns everywhere, clattering to the ground as the Dead were swept.  
The bodies piled up ahead of us, where the Dead were tripped on the other fallen Dead before being put down, creating a near wall of bodies. The bullet fire lasted for about ten to fifteen minutes, and just like that—the horde was gone. It had taken nearly fifteen of us to put down a horde of around a hundred. The Saviors knew what they were doing, and after seeing their clean up service first hand, I understood right then, why they charged for their services, and for how dangerous the occupation was—didn’t take any shit when the communities they protected decided not to pay up. This was going to make the job much easier.  
Negan called one of his men over and told him to take two men with him to lead any stragglers away from the area and to the highway.  
I had learned they had set traps on the main highway for herds of walkers that were too much to handle just with gun fire, explosives and wire cables for decapitating heads. It was ingenious and impressive. The man took his orders and took two men with him as told, now it was just business to attend to. Negan swung Lucille in circles as we approached the Library, grinning ear to ear. “What are these people like?” I asked.  
Smile got smaller, “More, difficult, than we are used to.” He replied looking at me.  
“I see.” I kept a hand on my blades as we approached the Library, which looked as good as deserted. Not a soul, not a peep. Silence.  
“Negan?” I turned to him. His face turned down in disgust. He whistled as he walked up to the Library doors, tapping on them with Lucille. “Little pigs, little pigs…” He waited, his shoulders tense, his hand white-knuckled on Lucille.  
Finally, a man came to the door, looking at Negan on the other side of the glass, hesitant on opening it. “We’ve come to collect.” Negan smiled. The man just frowned, not saying a word. “Oh com’on, Tommy! Did you see that shit show we just cleaned up for you? How about a thank you?!”  
Tommy just looked at him, deep, purple circles sat under his eyes. The door finally opened and he stepped out “The stuff’s down the hall.” Tommy said and stepped aside from the door. Negan waved his men forward to enter the hall first, Negan and I fell in last. The people of the community led us to the big open study. They had medicine for us, scavenged machetes, batteries.  
Negan looked into the boxes with a frown. “This is not enough, Tommy.” His eyes looked up to meet Tom’s. Tom’s face broke out into a sweat.  
“It’s the best we could do.”  
“No!” Negan cut him off, “If you believe that, then you are not destined to survive in this world, now, since you’ve gotten lazy on me,” Negan looked about the room, surveying. Every man and woman held a gun. “We are gonna take half your guns instead.”  
“No!” Tommy spat.  
“Excuse me?” Negan gave him a venomous look. “Did you just tell me no?” He whispered. “Let me paint you a damn picture, Tom.”  
I smirked waiting for Negan’s next words, keeping my hands on my pistols.  
“Let’s pretend that all of your men even know those guns from their asses, answer me, why in the fuck was there a horde outside your god damned house?”  
Tom lowered his head, defeated. The fucking leader hadn’t taught his people how to defend themselves—and it was laughable. “Half the guns, now. That’s my price.” Negan said matter-of-factly. One gun raised from across the way and the wall of Negan’s men lifted their guns to meet theirs.  
Negan smiled at me then back to Tom, “Really? Want me to take allll of your guns?”  
“Lower your fucking gun!” He barked over his shoulder, “Now!”  
Negan patted Tom on the shoulder, “Good man.” Then turned to us, “Okay ladies and gents,” He waved us behind him, “half.”

We loaded up twenty guns that they had no fucking idea how to use and took them back to the compound. I had drifted to sleep on the way back, dreaming of my mother and father. A dream at first that transgressed into a nightmare. A dream that had begun with yellow sunlight and a bright blue sky. My mother’s face—her smile, her freckles, and her creamy tan skin from her Native American heritage that was just a shade or two darker than my skin. Mama. Her hair was in long, dark braids, as I liked to wear my chocolate brown hair, but in several braids, close to my head. Drops of blood fell onto her flawless skin like rain, and I screamed as she was dragged away from me the sky falling dark. I could hear Pa screaming for her, his voice tearing out of his throat in such a brutal rage. I cried for my Mama, then cried for Daddy as he sought to avenge her. To rip this world apart—for her and for I.  
“Harley! Run!” He screamed at me as a walker sank its teeth into his arm. “Run! Harley! Go! Harley. Harley? Harley?!”  
I started with a knife drawn, tears rolling down my face. The truck was stopped, and Negan’s hand held my leg, my knife raised and ready. I fell out of my stupor and slipped my blade back into its sheath, wiping my tears away with a sleeve. I kicked the door open, Atlas hopping out ahead of me.  
“Hey?” Negan reached out with such a gentle touch on my cheek, making me look at him. His thumb wiped away a stray tear. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. I reached a hand to his wrist and willed my self to pull away from him, opening my eyes once again to see his, full of worry.  
“I’ll be fine.” I whispered. “I just need some sleep.”  
I jumped out of the pick up and headed to the room. Once inside I indulged in a few swigs of brandy and headed to the bed for a much needed, dreamless sleep. 

 

When I woke, night had already fallen, and I had glanced around the room to find Negan, but he was absent. I pulled on my clothes and headed out of the room, leaving Atlas to stand watch, his alert ears pricked. I walked around the compound to find very few people around but the sound of shouts and cheers from an area I had not yet been echoed off the cement walls. I rounded the corner to look down upon a massive fighting pit. Chain link fence had been set up to corral the fighters in. People crowded the cage while two men beat the shit out of each other. But it wasn’t just anyone. A swing, a punch, and one fell, and the crowd went crazy. The winner held out tattooed arms in triumph and that’s when I knew who it was. Negan turned in the ring, smiling so wide, blood dripping from his lip and I wondered who was so stupid enough to strike this King among men. Someone handed him a rag and he wiped the blood from his face and stepped out, so someone could drag the loser out of the ring. A fresh fighter stepped into the pit while someone yelled “Who’s next?” There was a pause. Who would go next? Adrenaline pumped through my veins—making me recall my haunted memories of my parents.  
** “Me!” I raised my hand, and everyone looked up at me on the metal steps, watching me as I stepped down, taking my jacket off, taking my shirt off so that I stood in my sports bra. Negan grimaced in disapproval, but didn’t stop me as I walked right past him into the pit, throwing my clothes at someone and trying my hair up, the braids on the side of my head pulling back tight. The gate closed behind me and cheers thundered around me. I looked at my opponent, a big bastard, but I was quicker. I smirked at him and he flipped me off.  
“Stupid bitch.” He whispered so that only I could hear, because lord knows, if Negan knew, his face would be sporting a brand by the end of the night.  
I pouted, and that’s when he lunged for me. I dodged stepping to the sides as he threw his entire shoulder into these blows that met air. He took a massive swing for me, but I barely missed it, running to the cage wall, jumping, springing off the chain link walls and dropping an elbow in between his shoulders. The crowd roared, and I loved it. I loved the way it made me feel. My opponent staggered from my blow then raised his fists again and I copied him. He swung, and I stepped back, watching his fist pass in front of my nose, then stepped forward, got low and one-two-three jabs, armpit, stomach, ribs, hard and fast.  
My opponent doubled over coughing as the crowd took over my senses. I turned to them with my hands up, “Rules?” I yelled over them.  
“No!” Some laughed, some screamed to see more carnage. I turned back to my opponent and took a swinging kick, the top of my foot connecting to his face. Sending him onto his back. I strutted around the pit, feeling like a fucking gladiator. I took a glance at Negan who sat towards the back of the crowd, now laughing and clapping. My opponent eventually staggered to his feet and I raised my fists again. Now he was pissed, not only was I, a woman kicking his ass, he was getting his ass kicked in front of everyone. His face red from embarrassment and anger, he threw a fist forward catching my jaw with the corner of his punch. The crowd ‘ooo’ed as I took the hit, tasting my blood in my mouth and laughing. It had been a long time since I took a hit in a fight. I turned around raised my fists again, dodging his blows, landing one to his face, taking two to the stomach. My back hit the chain link and I looked around the bastard in the ring to see Negan’s amusement gone, now standing in predatory stillness. I stood upright and wiped the blood from my lip and dashed towards my opponent. I dodged his two strikes and my fists connected with his face and chin. As he staggered back, ribs, stomach, ribs stomach, one-two-one-two. I took pleasure in only hearing voices call my name and yell praise for me. He was heaving against the chain link now, face bloody. I punched out again and again, face, stomach, ribs, sweeping his leg out so he toppled to the ground. Defeated. Blood from my brow dripped into my eye but I smiled and raised my arms victorious. Feeling like somebody, for the first time in a long time. The gates opened and I stepped out as two men stepped in to retrieve the unconscious body on the ground. I took my jacket from someone and as I moved to step back up the stairs, a strong hand gripped my arm and began to practically drag me up the steps. Negan. And he was not happy. 

 

I had done well to let the light back in, but so easily, the light can become the dark. And darker it became. 

 

“What in the flying fucking dick was that?!” He yelled as he threw me into his room. I stumbled forward, just barley catching myself, and I started to laugh and I couldn’t stop.  
“Stop fucking laughing.”  
Fuck me, I couldn’t. I only stopped when he closed the distance between us in a few long strides and grabbed me by the shoulders, giving me a shake. “I said stop damnit!” He said, his voice rough and deep.  
“Why?!” My face twisted into a growl. Atlas was stalking towards Negan, ready to attack if I just said the word. I gave him the hand signal to lay down and quiet.  
“I just wanted to feel it again.” I growled. “And I did and on top of it beat the holy hell out of that bitch.” I ended with a smirk  
“Feel what?” He let me go.  
“To be alive. Bleeding.”  
He stood back and just looked at me for a long time, not saying anything.  
Silence, and my eye was finally swelling. I held my tongue in between my teeth then said, “I bet I could kick your ass.”  
There it was again, his gleaming smile and those delicious dimples. “Absofuckinglutely.”  
“Let’s go.” I held up my fists and braced my feet.  
“Honey, you need to take care of that nasty fucking brow first.” He walked past me and into the bathroom, returning with a small first aid kit. He sat on the edge of the bed and wriggled a finger at me to come to him. I sneered and prowled towards him, not sitting on the bed, but swinging a leg over him, straddling him on the edge of the bed.  
Negan’s laugh reverberated through me and his cock leapt in his pants as I pressed down on his lap. I watched his throat bob as I sat there nose to nose with him.  
“Let me see that eye.” He took my face, but gently, and tilted it so he could get a better look. He disinfected it and bandaged it with some gauze and tape, then leaned back to look at me. Really look at me.  
“Harley, who the fuck are you?”  
“Negan.” I replied.  
He smirked and sat up closer to me, pressing his lips roughly to mine for a moment, then leaned back. “Yes! But who are you?”  
“You want my fucking life story?”  
“What if I fuckin’ do?” He leaned back on the bed and I scooted to sit on top of him. Making it less tempting to grind against him.  
“I was an only child. Mamma and Daddy stayed together their whole lives. I was rebellious, always running off with the bad boys, especially when Pa was away.”  
That caught his attention. “My Pa served two tours, Navy Seals. I know how to fight because of him, he taught me everything I know. He wanted a boy,” I smirked as my eyes rested somewhere in space, thinking of him, thinking of him teaching me when he got back when I was fifteen.  
“And your name?”  
“Named me after his first love.” I smiled at Negan for a moment before continuing my story “I was twenty-two when the Outbreak happened. As a family, we lasted maybe a few months together, then we met a group, they lasted another two months—we were the last survivors from the group.” My voice dropped, “We only lasted another month maybe, before we came across some raiders. Or more like, they came across us. They took everything from us, but they wanted more. They took my Mama,” My voice cut out as I fought to keep tears back. “There was nothing Pa and I could do. Then a group of the Dead came out of the woods, tore some of them to shreds. These raiders, they threw my Mama to the Dead to try to get away. My father, I’ll never forget the look on his face,” I looked back to Negan, “As he tore them all to shreds. I have never seen a man or woman so in love in my entire existance.” I took a moment to will tears to stay behind my eyes. “He told me to run, before he was brought down by the Dead as well. Atlas, and I, we got away.” I looked to my boy laying on the floor by the bed, then turned back to Negan, darkness now riding in my eyes, “So did three of the raiders.” Negan sat up on his elbows.  
I tracked them for a few days, stalked them. Waited and watched. They were my first kills. I picked a night so dark, shadows blended with the forest. They had a small fire, were talking about past raids, past women they had defiled. Atlas and I crept up and I sprung from the woods, a knife to one’s throat. I had commanded Atlas to attack one, nearly ripped his hand off.” I nearly laughed thinking of the image as I told Negan this story. “I remember looking into the eyes of the man across the fire as I held a knife to his brother’s throat. He knew me, knew my face, and knew he was going to die, but the best part,” I ground my teeth “was seeing the realization that his actions would kill his brother. And I killed two of them. I ripped their bodies a part.” I recalled the blood I spilt. The organs I drew from their bodies while they still lived. It was the beginning of the monster I knew I was. “The truth is Negan,” I leaned over him, my lips inches from his, “I’m a motherfucking monster, and everybody knows it...you know it.”  
“What happened to the last one?”  
My face twisted. “He got away. The one that hurt my mother. She didn’t let him just have his way though.” I drew three lines on my cheek, “Scratched him, deep across the face, to carry the reminder of his sins.”  
I moved to get off of him but his hands reached out to hold me where I was, one hand on my thigh and one behind my head. He brought my face to his and drank in my kiss. His hand drifted from my thigh to the curve of my ass. His tongue drifted into my mouth as his mouth moved with mine. He rolled me over so that he was on top of me. His mouth found my stomach and he kissed and nipped, trailing up, kissing my neck and chest.  
He knew I was darkness. And he embraced it. Longed for a partner to take part in his.  
It was like shadow and night, finally seeing each other for the first time. 

 

“And who is Negan?” I breathed. Placing a hand on his salt and pepper beard, looking into his dark hazel eyes.  
He took my hand from his face and kissed my palm and rolled over to lie beside me, his elbow propping his head up. “I was in the hospital when the outbreak happened.” He spoke, solemnly. “My wife, she was sick with cancer.” I rolled over to my stomach and watched his face as he confessed to me—for the first time telling anyone this. “I didn’t love her enough. Then it was too late.” He laid on his back to stare at the ceiling.  
“Was she beautiful?” I smiled.  
“Very.” He smiled remembering her. “She had curly, blond hair, and these big doe eyes.”  
I placed a hand on his chest, his head snapping back to me. I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I am sorry.” And we laid there. My head rested on his chest, his arms holding me, our legs entwined as we stared into space—bathing in our pain, but in pain together. 

 

That was all he spoke of her. Nothing else. Ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

He worked his magic on me every night, but it wasn’t just fucking…it went deeper than that. It was as if Negan was shattering me and rebuilding me, or maybe it was me finally letting go to him—completely. He rocked his hips into me, slow. He was surprisingly good at taking it nice and slow for a man who is heavy on the gas pedal, especially after a day of dropping dead bodies, and serious business transactions. His kiss brushed my lips before resting his head into the crook of my neck, focusing on his hips, which brought me quaking for a moment, feeling the swell of him inside of me. He looked into my eyes with a hooded, sultry gaze, brushing the hair from my face as he rocked me gently from on top. My hands gripped his arms as my head leaned back. I gasped for air as he thrusted deeper, Negan leaning forward to take my lip in his teeth gently. “Cry for me, baby.” He said, his lips falling to my neck. And I did. I cried out as he pushed in as deep as he could, pleasure taking grip of my body. I whispered his name and kissed his lips. He rolled us over so that I was on top of him, straddling him. His hands found my hips and helped steady me as I rocked against him, pressing him to my G spot as my fingers found the apex of my thighs. I gasped at the sensation of his hands, his cock within me, my fingers on me, then he thrusted up into me.  
“Holy fuck!” I cried out.  
He smiled and rolled his head back as his hips worked to keep the ecstasy building within me.  
“Negan…” I breathed.  
“Come for me, Harley.”  
The sound of my name on his lips, his voice. He rocked me on his hips the pace he liked, and it agreed with my body as well. “Oh God!” I panted as my pleasure climbed. He moaned as he got closer, the look of determination in his eyes that I loved so much, seeing him want like that—it was my undoing. The release shook my body and made my lips cry out, my hands clutching his chest. His grip tightened on my hips as he pushed himself in three more times before coming too, his head falling back onto the pillow, sighing with relief.  
I laid on top of him for a moment, my head resting in the crook of his neck, both of us exhausted. His rough hands ran across my bare leg, sending gooseflesh across my body. This was the putting me back together part. It was if I got clearer glimpses of the past in these moments—glimpses not necessarily of myself, but of the normalcy of what life used to be.  
Negan’s mouth found my own, my lips parting for him. It was these moments that kept me sane. Sane enough to keep me, still me.  
“We keep this up—you’re fixin’ to get me pregnant.” I laughed  
“What if that were my intention.” He smiled up at me. I brushed it off as a joke—he couldn’t be serious.  
“I was only kidding.” I said lifting up my arm and bringing his fingers to the little bump that sat under the skin of my arm—my birth control.  
His face didn’t grow solemn, but I definitely noticed his smile fade.  
I kissed Negan’s forehead and got off of him to clean up before bed. I pulled on his shirt, just big enough to barely cover my crotch, however my ass still peeked out of the bottom, giving me a little chill. He sat up in bed and watched as I made my way to his leather jacket on the rack, tip toeing around the apartment barefoot, gathering my hair into a knot on the top of my head. I fished out the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and smirked at him—an invitation for him to join me. I perched myself on top of the short book case by the window, cracking the window for the breeze. Negan pulled on some boxers and plucked a cigarette from the box and the lighter as I placed the paper between my lips. He cupped his hand around the end of my cigarette and lit it for me before doing his. I smiled a thank you as I inhaled the poison, deep, and held it for a moment before exhaling. I watched Negan as he puffed on his out of the corner of his mouth, his brows drawn into a furrow as he thought, looking out the window. He was the embodiment of sex. I took another drag to fog the images of him and I together.  
“What are you thinkin’ about?” I said taking the cigarette between two fingers.  
Negan shook his head, “Just of tomorrow.”  
“Is Negan fretting the days to come? Since when is Negan fearful of the future?”  
“Careful.” He smiled taking my jaw in his hand for a moment. He puffed a few more times, drawing the end of the cigarette closer and closer to the end. “I have more reasons to be fearful for the future now than I used to.” He glanced away from the window to lock eyes with me.  
“I can handle myself. I always have.” I insisted.  
“I don’t worry about you…”  
Worry. I had never heard him use that word. And it wasn’t worried about, it was worried for. Negan finished his cigarette, flicking it out the window and turning to the liquor shelf, grabbing a crystal decanter filled with brandy.  
I flicked my cigarette out the window and shut it, turning to Negan. “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”  
“No runs that we need to go on, but the Library is testing my patience—we’ll see how they preform tomorrow…if they wanna be difficult,” He smiled as he played with the lighter, “We’ll just have to snuff the light out of those degenerates.”  
“Well, if there’s nothing to be done tomorrow—I’m going to go hunting, maybe I’ll have better luck than yesterday.”  
Negan just stared at me, for a long while. He didn’t say anything, but his look, he had just started looking at me like that for a bit now, it was enough for me to take notice. I strode forward and took his hand. My hands trailed up his arms and around his neck—pulling his face to mine and kissing him deeply on the lips. My stomach leapt and jumped within me as his hands fell on my back, his arms soon encircling me.  
“Let’s go to bed.” I whispered. 

At this point in our evenings—I liked to pretend we sat in our bed, frame matching with the rest of the bedroom furniture, flicking through the channels on T.V., maybe he would be reading. What would he be reading? Eventually he would set his book down and wrap his arms around me and we’d fall asleep.  
But in reality, unless we had fucked hard, we stayed up tossing and turning on opposite sides of the bed until sleep took hold, but tonight, as I laid on my side, I felt his arm slip over my side, his body pressing in close to me. I smiled and closed my eyes—feeling sleep greet me.  
“Good night, Negan.” 

 

The sun shown on our faces in the morning. I squinted through my lashes to see a brilliant blue sky through the window. I smiled and slowly rolled over, Negan’s arm still resting on me. He slept so deeply, even with the sun hitting his face. The way he slept was amusing to me. Negan, the big, bad, bad-ass, the asshole of the apocalypse—and he slept with little snores, his hair disheveled, a man, completely capable of waking up and strangling the life from me, slept so soundly beside me. I placed a slow and careful kiss on his scruffy cheek before pulling myself cautiously from the covers, tiptoeing to the pile my clothes sat in. Atlas moved to get up—but I gave him the hand command to stay as I tucked my familiar red scarf into my jacket. Atlas and Negan had progressively gotten closer and I knew I could trust Negan now with what meant the most to me. I tugged my pale green boots on and grabbed my backpack, ready, and heading out for the morning hunt.  
I spun my hair into a long braid as I headed towards the armory, most of the compound still asleep. Irene was at the armory—taking inventory, but primarily there early to wait for me, to hand me my compound bow and my set of arrows. She also knew that waiting for me early in the morning meant a game bird for her or a few squirrels.  
“Good morning, honey.” She croaked through the cigarette in her lips as she handed me my bow and supplies.  
“Preference this morning?” I asked. I may have been Negan’s girl, but I was here for the same reason he was—for his people—we just had our own ways of operating.  
She smiled at me, “Been cravin’ a turkey dinner lately.” She spoke honestly.  
I smiled back, “I’ll see what I can do.” I turned slipping the hand-made arrow quiver over my head, the familiar weight on my back. It took me a while to drift deep enough into the forest, for my mind to fall back into my primal instinct that I had re-acquired since the end of the world. The world seemed so much clearer here in the woods. My senses pricked to every change of sound and flicker of movement here. I had an arrow notched, sitting at a rest between my finger tips as I moved amongst the trees, stepping around piles of leaves, twigs, and logs, stopping every now in then to listen and watch. The forest floor felt like home beneath me feet, it had sheltered me for so long before I found that little community on the wood’s edge to the north. I picked a heavily shaded spot, some ferns growing larger here beneath some tall fir trees. I nestled within the ferns and smeared my face in mud for camouflage and waited.  
I used my time in waiting to reflect, and to remember. The bow sat across my lap as the hours rolled by and morning turned to afternoon. I had eaten my lunch and drank my water—still waiting for any game to cross my path. It was highly unusual for me to wait this long. As I was prepared to change locations, a turkey call clucked out through the trees, and the shuffle of feet moved amongst the dried leaves on the forest floor as a flock of turkeys pecked and scrapped at the leaves. I waited for them to come towards my grove of trees, counting the number of males and females, ensuring I was taking the right bird so they would continue to reproduce. I spotted a plump looking hen and narrowed in on her. I slowly positioned my bow and pulled back, feeling the tension rotate through the bow’s limbs and cams. She pecked and prodded the ground, so unaware of the predator just a few feet away. I exhaled and watched as the arrow shot forward, cutting through her tender throat, dropping her. The flock went up in terror, feathers flying and wings flapping as they scrambled to escape through the trees.  
I approached the hen—her body convulsing, blood spraying everywhere. “Fuck.” I breathed as I knelt to the ground and placed a hand upon her wings, ready to end the pain for her. My heart ached for her, and though I had killed animals before, killed people, I never took joy in removing an innocent life from the world. I watched as the light of life left her eyes, her eyes—suddenly turning dull. I inhaled. Ashamed of my shot, of the kill. “Thank you for your life, because of you, others will live.” I spoke, running my hands over her dusty feathers. It was important to remember that even though it was ‘just a turkey’ that it was still a life, no matter what. I removed a knife and gutted the hen quickly before turning to head back to the Sanctuary. I carried the turkey back on my shoulder, with my other hand on my bow. I would have to drop this off with Irene before re-stocking on food and heading back out to maybe bag something bigger. Despite my kill, I tried to remain silent but I had the feeling of something watching me. The hair on my arms stood on end and my heart beat faster within my chest.  
In a lightning fast movement, I dropped the hen and my bow, grabbed a knife, turned on my heels and flung the blade. The blade sunk into the chest of man whom I did not recognize then anxiety settled into my body. I heard voices and the sound of feet through the dried leaves. I threw another knife, dropping another body, then another. I wheeled around, dead bodies encircling me, to see more of them—so many of them. I pulled the guns at my hips, ready for a fight when the cold kiss of metal brushed my neck.  
“Easy, sweetheart.” A man breathed into my ear, my body going cold and rigid, I had heard that voice before. “Well, well, boy’s I had the mother, I guess I get the daughter as well.” It was him. The man who assaulted my mother. Tears pressed to my eye lids as I looked around. I spotted the man with the head tattoo from the caravan—so I was right when I though I saw the bastard with the knife to my throat. The Caravan was back, and they wanted revenge on The Saviors. Then another familiar voice.  
“Yep, that’s her, Negan’s pet.”  
My eyes flicked to the side to see Thomas. He stood there with some of the library group, guns in hand—I had to wonder if they knew how to use them now. Rage boiled in me and I wanted to stick a knife in that man and twist. My anger quickly cooled when the man spoke again in my ear. “Being that this is our second encounter after all, I should introduce myself, my name is Vincent.”  
I fought through the fear that froze me solid, calling on all my strength against the knife against my throat and brought an elbow up to Vincent’s face, connecting to his nose. He fell back, his knife barely nicking me as he clutched his bloody nose. I turned to see the man, it was him, my mother’s scars deep on his face. I stood rigid as a flood of horrible memories entered my mind. I held the knife in my hand white-knuckle tight, screaming at myself to run him through, but the memories kept me planted in fear, until two men tackled me to the forest floor. The air fled from my lungs as their weight crushed me. A boot stomped my hand, making me release my knife with a scream. Vincent laughed through his bloody nose, “fucking crazy bitch.” He laughed. My blood was cold, but I did everything I could to fight back. A fist came down on my face, my vision going in and out before another collided with my temple. I cried out in pain as another fist came down on my eye.  
“I’ll fucking gut you, you son of a bitch!” I wailed. “You killed my mother!”  
I was crying now, the tears running down my face. I watched as Vincent neared me, the tattooed man, I heard them call Miguel, staying close as Vincent knelt in front of me. “I did,” He nodded. He brushed the dirty bond hair from his face, almost showing me the scars on his face.  
“And after what you helped do to my people, I’m going to kill you too.”  
As afraid as I was, and nearly shaking because of it, I laughed in the truth I told him. “My mother gave you three scars, but I’ll wipe you from this world.” I spat in his face and I watched as his face twisted in anger as he stood and kicked me in the face. 

The world went dark.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! I would like to add a trigger warning here for sexual violence. There is no actual rape, but there are actions that would lead up to it in this chapter. !!!
> 
>  
> 
> ** Kingdom Come/The Civil Wars

When I woke, it was near dark, twilight quickly falling on the woods. My hands were bound, and I was gagged. My head throbbed, and I knew my eyes were swollen. I coughed, and the taste of blood was in my mouth, it caught the unwanted attention from the group that surrounded me at their camp. I was angry, and I knew it showed on my face because Vincent strolled up to me and gave me a pat on the face and a smile.  
“Good, you’re awake. I was afraid I killed you before the fun started.”  
Vincent was wearing my red, silk scarf. I glared at him, wanting to rip his throat out, longed for his blood on my hands.  
“Don’t look at me like that, bitch.”  
I laughed behind my gag, laughing because Negan would come looking for me, and when Negan found me, found them, they would be praying to anyone who was listening. They would be facing a demon in man’s clothes.  
I received another strike to the head that nearly toppled me over, my head spinning. I looked to the bonds on my wrists—zip ties. Fuck. I looked around and counted seventeen men, taking notice that Thomas and his people were absent. He would pay dearly in blood for this. Vincent had taken a seat back by the fire to bull shit with his piece of shit friends. Miguel, the man with the head tattoo eyed me from across the fire and I made it clear with a glare that he was to die when I got out of this too. 

 

Night had finally fallen, and I let a tear slide down my face. Negan had not come to my rescue, he likely had no idea where in the woods I could be. I knew him not showing up, was my death sentence, and I knew what it would entail. I clenched my knees together and prayed. I thought of his touch, his voice, pictured us together in bed this morning—why couldn’t I just enjoy being in my temporary fantasy with him, pretend that the world wasn’t shit for a moment. The way he laughed when I spat a playful insult at him, or the look of admiration in his eyes when I kicked ass in the fighting pit. His hands in my hair, his kiss on my lips…he had saved my soul from myself, as well as allowed me to be the monster I was. He was my salvation and my darkness.  
“Alright boys, I think it’s about time to finish what I started.” Vincent said and moved towards me. I screamed into my gag and kicked my legs out, scooting me farther from him, trying to stand to run. Vincent stopped half way and laughed at me, then turned to Miguel. “You know what, I’m too tired to deal with the whole kicking and screaming bit, Miguel, you take her first, just clean her up when you’re done.” The men around the fire laughed and it froze my blood and bones. Everything in my body told me to run, the panic had set in when I found myself unable to do so. I was frozen in fear, and for the first time since I escaped Vincent last, I had no idea what to do. Miguel strode up to me and grabbed me by my bonds, making my skin scream as the zip ties cut into me. He hoisted me up by my wrists and pulled my gag from my mouth. I wasted no time making my final words short and sweet. “Useless cunt!” I recalled the phrase Negan had called Gregory which seemed so long ago. The men laughed at me and Miguel put the gag back into my mouth. I tore my head away from him trying to avoid the gag. I kicked and screamed until my throat was raw as he drug me into the woods just beyond the camp. My wrists bled, and I prayed that I would bleed out before it happened…  
I cried and tried to pull away, but he threw me to the ground. He sat on top of me and punched me in the face with tattooed knuckles. My sight went dark after each blow, the shadows of the woods slowly returning to me as he ripped my boots and pants off. I cried as I tried to kick him, to squirm away. He ripped my underwear off and I wailed in fear. He held me down as he unbuttoned and pulled himself free of his pants. My throat burned from screaming and my eyes were blurry with tears. This is how I would die. An image of my mother flashed in my mind, how she died. The blood. My father’s tears. Flesh torn and bodies limp. Vincent’s laugh rang out as my mother was ripped to shreds.  
**The fucking sadist laughed at my terror, then anger flooded my body, banishing my fear just long enough. I wasn’t going to die today. And I wasn’t going to die like this. I shot up as I felt him nearing, sure that I had given up, and clashed my skull against his head, sending him falling back, wailing in pain. I shot up like a bird set free and took off into the woods. I willed myself to ignore the sharp sticks and rocks that my feet fell upon. I ripped the gag from my mouth and sprinted with my still bound hands towards The Sanctuary, to Negan. My breath came in ragged huffs as I tried to recoil from the events that had just happened. Shouts and yells sounded from behind me as I fled to the safety of the dark shadows.  
I fell, my knees singing as I hit rock. I winced and pulled myself back to my bloodied feet and ran for some ferns that sat in dense underbrush. I prayed they wouldn’t find my footprints and I scooped dirt onto my body, hoping to blend in. Flashlights scanned the dark forest for me, silhouettes of sick and twisted men carrying machetes and rifles shown through the woods. I tried to still my trembling breath as they neared. One of his men was close enough for me to reach out and touch and I bit down on my hand to keep from whimpering. They sang out my name, calling for me. I sat for twenty minutes, praying they’d leave. One by one they headed towards a different direction to hunt me down and it took me another five minutes to be sure they were gone for me to move. I tip toed from the brush and fled deeper, the woods unfamiliar at night. I was bare from the waist down and the night was growing colder and colder, causing me to shiver. I stopped behind a large sycamore and doubled over to throw up, gasping for air in-between heaves. The snap of twigs sounded from behind me and I startled back into a sprint until the ground gave way and I was falling and tumbling down an incline, sticks scraping me, rocks cutting me. I hit the bottom hard and I heaved for air to return to my lungs. The woods were a tangle of shadows and branches, trees that all looked the same.  
Slowly I got back to my feet. I knew this hill, I had hiked around the rim while hunting, I wasn’t too far, but still far enough to make me shed more tears. Though, I couldn’t see, I could feel the blood that oozed from my wrists under the ties. I was not only running for my life, but I was now in a race against time. Light-headed, I took a quick pace, following the bottom of the hill. I flinched to every sound, every noise, I was afraid, and slowly dying. The moon had finally shone through the clouds, light falling through the trees. I spun around trying to gather my bearings with the woods less dark, and my heart caught in my throat. Nothing was familiar. I was lost. I hit my knees, panting, head spinning. The amount of blood I had lost, it was too much. A halo of shadow clouded my vision as I rested my head in the leaves, and I watched as it slowly overtook me. My fight was over. 

I was surprised when my eyes flickered open. I was convinced that was it, but I heard my name. I heard my name from several people. I saw flashlights in flares of light in the distance. I cried thinking of Vincent—he had returned to finish what he started.  
“What’s that?!”  
“There she is!”  
“Get the fuck outta my way, move!”  
Familiar callused hands brushed my face as my eyes opened to bright light glaring. “Get that out of her fucking face and give me your god damned jacket!” It was Negan. His face came into focus and I cried, my throat making an awful, scratchy, hoarse noise. Negan cut my wrists loose and the medic, John, was immediately there, sanitizing the wounds, and wrapping them in gauze.  
“Negan.” I cried.  
He looked over my body for a moment in total disdain then wrapped me in the jacket and hoisted me to his arms. His face was a calm rage as he looked over my face, how brutally it had to be mangled; looked over my body seeing the cuts and bruises on my legs and feet, but looking for sign of my body being defiled. He pressed his forehead to mine and carried me to the trucks they had parked not far away. I cried the whole time he held me, the images of today flashing through my mind.  
Negan placed me in the back seat of the pickup, wrapped still in the jacket. His hand found the side of my face, running his thumb over the tears. “Sssh, darlin’, you’re safe now. I have been looking for you for hours.”  
I heaved and sobbed, trying my best to calm myself back down. No one had ever seen me like this. Then men gathered around me—their faces showed horror, anger, sorrow for me. I was Negan’s girl, and I had been tossed around like a rag doll. Their ‘Queen’ had fallen victim to a brutality Negan forbid. Negan held me in his arms while I tried to regain my breath. “Did they…Did they—” Negan fought to say the words.  
I shook my head “No.” I cried. “Almost, I-I got away, they are st-still out there.” I pointed to the direction of the camp. “S-s-seventeen of them.” I glanced around, there had to be forty of his men here. Forty that came out to look for me…willingly by the look on their faces as I stammered. They were angry.  
Negan’s hand was soft as he rested it behind my head. “I’m going to kill every single one of them.”  
“N-Negan,” His eyes searched mine and he watched in angry dismay as I drew three lines across my cheek. His face twisted in anger and placed a tender kiss upon my head before turning to his men, “Negan” I called once more, “Thomas was there, he helped.”  
He stood with his back to me for a long moment. The fibers of the bat groaning under his hand. “Joey!” He barked. “Take my—,” He paused, “take Harley home.”  
“Yes, Negan!”  
Negan headed into the woods with his men, his leather jacket blending into the inky, black shadows of the forest, and he and his men drifted into the dark.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** A Thousand Eyes/Of Monsters and Men

-NEGAN-

**Eerie whistling filled the dark woods as Negan and his men circled the Caravan like lions. The Caravan stood with guns at the ready, but Negan’s men had already taken up positions behind them, guns ready with bullets to tear flesh and life. The men ordered for guns down, as the sheer numbers of Negan’s men came through the trees. The Caravan members dropped their firearms and raised their hands. Negan’s men acted with gusto, pushing each member of the Caravan to their knees; they had grown to love Harley, respect her, she was the fire to Negan’s cigars, and they knew it well. A man positioned himself behind each captive on their knees. They were crying now, as they rightfully should have been, down on their knees in a half circle. They were being prepared for his grand entrance, livestock led to the slaughter now.  
“Ole lover boy?” Negan called out as he emerged from the shadows, Lucille resting on his shoulder, his men pointing guns at the Caravan survivors, her abusers. The Caravan looked at Negan, looked at all forty of his men, fear rocked through them.  
“Where’s the lover boy?” Negan asked, a smile in the corner of his mouth, excited to see a man die to Lucille, excited to deliver punishment, to incite revenge on those who harmed his girl. The campfire glowed in his eyes as he looked to each man on their knees. Vincent pushed Miguel forward, in desperate hopes that Negan would somehow spare them if they presented the guilty. But unfortunately for them, they were all guilty. Negan smiled at Miguel, leaning back a little, his shoulders strong and proud. “Oh, there you are, you god damn degenerate.” He said sweetly and knelt in front of him. “You took something of mine,” He said inches from his crying, snot covered face, “You hurt her, abused her, you wanted to shove your dick in her, didn’t you?”  
“No, Negan.” He cried.  
Negan smiled at his recognition. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you wanted to, and she gave you those shiners to escape, huh,” Negan pointed at dark bruises under Miguel’s eyes from where Harley had head-butted the man. “Yeah, that’s what happened. You thought she was too weak to run, but she did, came right back to me.” Negan stood and addressed those on the ground, “Y’all shitting your pants yet?” He laughed, but anger raged in him like a wildfire, as he wasted time to think of the perfect punishment for committing such acts on her… He thought of her, how much she had changed his life and how much he felt for her.  
“So, here we are,” Negan held out his arms, “I gave you all a chance to get the fuck out of Dodge, and you had to come back, twice!” Negan yelled, sending shutters through those on the ground. He held up his bat, admiring Lucille, the barbed wire glinting in the campfire’s light. Negan couldn’t keep composure any longer, because he thought of her, out here in the woods, surrounded by men who wanted to rape her, molest her, take anything she had of herself left…the images he conjured made him shut his eyes for a moment, but it wasn’t enough, the fire was burning too hot. “Lover boy,” Negan looked down at the piece of shit before him, “go fuck yourself.” He said as he raised the bat above his head and drove it down onto his head.  
Blood sprayed those closest to him and covered Lucille. “Mother fucking, piece of shit!” Negan pulled back and swung again, and again, and again. “You hurt my fucking wife! Put your fuckin' hands on her!” Negan roared at the corpse. His men stood back, silent, as Negan became unhinged. Those on their knees sobbed, watching someone they once knew become raw meat, his head gone in nothing but a pile of bone and brain within minutes, but Negan still brought the bat down on his body. Blood droplets freckled Negan’s face as he finally stood upright, lost of breath, hair disheveled. He had realized he had slipped; called Harley, his wife. He took a moment to catch his breath and push his hair back as well as the memories of Lucille and Harley that flooded his mind now. The feelings he had for Lucille at the beginning of their marriage, they were similar to those he now felt for Harley, but he knew...it went far deeper than before. He shook the blood from Lucille onto the captured. “Damn that’s gross. Look at this shit! I stomped a mud hole in his ass and walked it dry!” He told those on their knees, taking pride in his gruesome work. He found his composure again and his wicked smile, looking from person to person. “Now who the fuck is the fuckface that raped her mother?” Not silence this time, but weeping. “Com’on, I think I’ve made it clear here by turning ole fuck boys head into ground beef, that I don’t have all fuckin’ night.” He pointed his bat at the mangled body. A man began to stammer, Negan’s head snapping to him. Negan moved closer to the man and knelt before him as the man struggled to find words. “What is it boy? You got somethin’ to say? Speak.” Negan spoke to him as if he were Atlas.  
“It’s him.” He finally got out, pointing at Vincent, his scars nearly glowing in the firelight.  
“Thanks, friend.” Negan said and moved in front of the man with the scared face. “You see, she told me that you had a fucked-up face,” Negan grabbed his face to get a better look at the scars, inflicted by her mother. “I just wanted you to hear your friend throw you under the bus,” He grinned back to the man. “My God, she fucking got you good, didn’t she? Right before you raped her, and threw her to the fucking Dead, god damn, you are sick fuck. And would you take a fucking look at that!" Negan tilted Vincent's head to the side to take a look at the silk scarf around his neck. "You know, my girl had a scarf just like that one." He said, ripping it off of his throat, choking him for a moment. Negan flicked his face away from his grip and stood upright and tucked the scarf in his pocket. “Boys,” Negan held out a hand and one of his men placed a rope in his open palm. “Thank you.” He said and bent over, pulling the prick up by his shirt collar, turned him around and tied his hands together and pushed him towards his men. “You’re coming back with us, pal, you’re going to have so much fun!” Negan smiled at Vincent, chuckling darkly. Vincent shook in terror, relieving himself. “Would you take a fuckin’ look at this.” Negan pointed at his soaking pants, “Lil, prick has pissed himself!” Negan doubled over laughing. “Get this prom night dumpster baby out of my sight.” Negan finished laughing and just smiled at those left. “Men.” Each of his men took a position behind each captive, their guns pointed at their skulls.  
“Fuckers,” He addressed the captives, and Negan’s men pushed their heads down, “It’s been real, it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun.” His face dropped. The crying men looked up at Negan under their brows as he waved a hand and shots rang out behind each one’s head turning the scene into a slaughter. Vincent sniveled and whimpered as he watched everyone he knew get blown away. Negan rested a hand on his shoulder and laughed at his face, “Damn, son, I realllly don’t want to be you right now.” Negan smiled at Vincent, giving him a light smack him on the face.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Way down we go/ Kaleo

Josef drove heavy on the petal back to The Sanctuary as I faded in and out, my bandages already sodden with blood. “Hold on Miss Harley.” He spoke calmly to me as shadows wavered in and out and I tight-walked between two worlds. A cold sweat broke out over me and I did my best to focus on here, to not fall asleep. We took the familiar turn through the gates to the loading dock—the closest way to the doctor. Josef threw the car into park and gently scooped me out of the back seat, fearful not only for me but for himself—if I were to die, my last words would have to be to spare Joey. Breathing heavy, Josef carried me up flights of stairs. The dark rim around my sight was turning white and I could feel blood drip down my arms now…I was losing too much blood and a pain I hadn’t noticed before at my gut made me wince, where a stick had stabbed me, probably when I tumbled down the hill.  
Joey hurried me into the doctor’s office, gently putting me on the table and standing out of the doctor’s way. Doc cut my shirt off to look at the wound in my abdomen that was filled with dirt and rock and was already starting to fester. I groaned as he took the bandages from my wrists, ordering Joey to help him, grab things, hold my arm…I was depending the both of them to survive, but maybe the fight wasn’t worth it anymore. Images from just a few hours earlier flashed through my mind and tears streamed down my face. Maybe death would be a pleasant release. Unbound. Freedom.  
“Please.” I cried softly. Joey looked to me while the doctor continued to tend to me, sticking me with an IV of fluids. He looked at me with his big, blue eyes. “Please.” I cried again, a plea to not save my life…to let me go. It was all I could muster, I tried one more time but my words caught in my throat, strangling me. Pressure hit my lungs and it felt as if I were drowning. My body shook and convulsed on the table uncontrollably the feeling of pin pricks in every nerve and muscle in my body, but it hurt, like electricity. I wanted to scream, to cry, to pray, but I couldn’t talk, let alone open my mouth.  
“She’s seizing!” The doctor yelled. I knew he yelled, but it was muffled, and a ringing began in my ear. This was it, death. Slowly my vision blurred as I tried to watch Joey and the Doc move around the room, grabbing needles, tools, IV bags. It was fading—I, was fading. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Negan. 

 

I woke. Not dead. Still alive, but how alive? My vision was blurred and slowly came to focus to his face, his weight on the side of my bed. Our bed, we were in the apartment. His eyes were full of worry. Actual worry. “Negan.” I breathed, breathed because I could hardly talk, my voice—it was so hoarse. For a split second I thought I saw water in his eyes, but he leaned in, taking my face in his hands, and placed his forehead on mine. “I thought I lost you.” He whispered and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. A sharp pain reminded me there was an IV in my arm. I spotted the Doc sleeping in Negan’s arm chair. “He has been here all night with me,” Negan looked away from my gaze, “He wanted to be sure he did everything to make sure you pulled through.” He looked from the Doc back to me. “Harley, I killed them, all of them—well, all, but one…” I tried not to cry, but a sob came from my mouth and he scooted closer to me, and after one sob, came many. He wrapped his arms around me, comforting me. I grabbed his arms and cried into his chest. His hand ran through my hair as he allowed me to be distraught. Then, it was as if a rope inside me—frayed, and coming more undone—finally, broke and my sorrow turned into a burning rage. Negan took notice to my sudden change and leaned back to look at me. He could see the rage that filled my eyes and nodded, almost smirking, not happy with this, but understanding—I wanted revenge, and revenge he would give me.  
I had been asleep for almost twenty-four hours and twilight was setting on the Sanctuary once more, but as the sun set, so did the last bit of who I was hanging onto. He held my hand to help me stand and dress, the Doc removing my IV, Negan even helped tie my hair back. Full dressed I stood in front of the mirror looking at my two purple eyes, bruising around them extending down my cheeks from being kicked in the face. I had a cut lip from biting it in my seizure, my wrists were bandaged with thick gauze once more. I could see Negan approach me in the mirror, I turned to him and he held out my knife belt, the one he had given me. I smiled as he looped it around me and secured it on my waist. He held out a hand for me, to help steady me on our walk to the yard. I placed a hand on the side of his face and tip toed to kiss him, but I denied his help as I gimped down the halls. I opened the door to find all his men, lining the halls, for me. A sudden burst of pride exploded in my chest as I put one foot in front of the other, my Negan striding behind me.  
** We stepped outside, and a warm summer wind blew through my hair as Negan stepped in beside me. A group was gathered ahead near a structure. “Right this way,” Negan smiled grimly, “I didn’t want blood on the boiler room floor.”  
I snorted then strode forward to see his handy work. One by one the Sanctuary citizens saw me and parted the way, Negan, close behind. People who knew me, and I knew them, by name, knew their families, shared food…they knew what had happened, and they looked at me with such…fucking pity. I could feel my face twist up in anger as parted the way to a giant wooded X that stood in the yard. And nailed to it…was Vincent. Upon further inspection, it wasn’t nails, but zip ties, that cut into his wrists, that trickled blood down his arms and chest. Negan stood back as I stepped forward. He was unconscious…where was the fun in that?  
I turned to Negan, “Cut him down.” I growled. Negan took the pleasure in doing it himself, letting the fool drop five feet, jarring him awake. Vincent looked up at me and I smiled down at him. He began to cry and that’s when I kicked him in the face, feeling teeth break under my boot. I turned to the men, “pull him to his feet.” And they did, hoisting Vincent to his feet to look at me. Now awake, his blood shot eyes were full of fear.  
“What’s wrong Vinny?” I crooned. “Scared? Of me? I wasn’t that scary yesterday?”  
“Please.” He whimpered. I brought my knife up fast cutting him shallow across the chest, making him scream in fear.  
“Funny—Vinny, that was almost the same noise my mother made when you took her dignity, when you fed her to the Dead.” Vincent shook his head, whimpering and sobbing. “Oh, Vincent…” He looked up at me, sniveling, lip quivering, “We all get what we deserve.” I could hear Negan chuckle behind me, “That’s my girl.”  
I could feel a smile cross my face. “Vinny,” I whispered, “I’m going to gut you,”  
“No!” He wailed in a plea.  
I laughed, “Remember what I told you yesterday? This shouldn’t be coming as a surprise.” I looked around Negan’s men. “Tell the others to go back inside.” I said, it was going to get too bloody for them…  
Vincent looked like shit, and it brought me joy, Negan had kicked the shit out of him and I was going to finish the job. I pulled one of my duller knives from my belt and sunk it into his leg. A hearty scream barreled out of him, then I twisted, making his scream jump up an octave. I snickered as I took my time watching his face as I toyed with the knife. With the knife still in his leg I drew two of my sharpest blades, the blades heavy in my hands. “For Daddy,” I breathed and brought my right arm up, the blade slicing open his cheek deep. He winced and cried, not expecting the second blade from the left cutting above his brow, quick as a whip. He cried out in pain as my blade tasted his blood. I turned to Negan. He stood stone faced. I held my arms open and let my blades spin between my fingers. We shared a moment between predators…the smell of revenge, of Vincent’s blood—it was a victory bell. I spun on my heels and slammed one blade into his stomach “For me.” I told Vincent as he gasped and heaved, blood bubbling out from around the knife. I stood straight, looking Vincent right in the eye, “Vinny,” I whispered and held the knife in front of his eyes, his reflection staring back at him in the metallic gleam, “We have doctors here, we can patch you up…if you can tell me where the rest of you are hiding—I know there’s more of you Vinny.” Vincent coughed up blood, almost onto my boot. “Time’s tickin’, Vincent…you are dying, I can help…where are the others?” I said sweetly  
He looked up into my eyes, head still slumped, shoulders leaning. There was blood on his mouth as he spoke, “Five miles past the cross roads, by the railroad tracks.”  
I cupped his face in my hands then stepped back, arms open, “Vinny, the truth shall set you free.” I spoke, and Vincent tried to smile, “But you’re doing dealings with a demon now,” Vinny’s face stilled, “and this one is for Mama.” I growled and drove the second blade next to the first in his abdomen, putting both hands on the handles, I pulled up through his body, feeling tissues and muscles, cut away from under the sharp edges. The men let go of him while Vincent’s guts spilled out of him, He gasped and coughed and took in the horror of what was happening for but a moment before he died. His stomach and intestines hung out of him like an animal attack, his face pale, that light everyone had in their eyes—gone now.  
I turned from the mangled corpse, locking eyes with Negan, reaching a blood-soaked hand up to his face, grazing his jaw as I walked by, then left him with his men. My soul was damaged, and it would need time to recover—or maybe it never would.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** (Save yourself/ Kaleo)

Chapter 14

** I waded into the water, the night lit up by the full moon over head. The water with a nightly chill sent gooseflesh up my arms and legs but I waded deeper—up to my collar bone, allowing my walls to come down. I allowed myself to scream and cry. Killing Vincent—even if it were my mother and father—I knew it had taken a piece of me that I’d never get back—though I had a sliver of hope my soul would heal, I knew it would scar, and I would wear that scar every day. I cried and splashed the water—for a mere second a thought entered my mind of sinking underneath the surface and never resurfacing.  
“Darlin.” He sighed from behind me.  
I stiffened—wondering if he had heard my lamentations. My weakness.  
I turned slowly. He stood on the shore, a towel hanging over his shoulder—his face full of sadness. He let the towel fall to the ground and reached down to take a boot off.  
“What are you doing here?” I asked.  
“Do you really need to ask that?” He said pulling off his shirt. “But, I’ll leave you want to be alone.” He held his shirt up in his hands.  
I shook my head silently and he shimmied out of his pants—standing stark naked before me. He dug around in his pants before coming into the water, grabbing a bar of soap from them.  
“Where did you get that?!” I exclaimed, shocked he could find something as simple—but so valuable as soap.  
He smiled at me sweetly, “Benefits of being a king of a castle.”  
A small smile returned to my face while the tears on my face glimmered in the moonlight. Negan strode into the water, unflinching to the cold bite, straight towards me. His hands found my face, thumbs wiping away the tears, his planting a soft kiss on my forehead. His hands trailed from my jaw to my throat, shoulders, arms, and rested on my elbows—giving me the option to fall into his embrace—only if I wanted it. And I did.  
I pressed myself to him and pulled myself together. “I am not the same as I used to be—not even close.”  
“None of us are sweetheart.” He spoke into my hair, “But we do the best we can.”  
“Do we? Or do we slaughter those mercilessly because we can?  
He pulled me back to look into my eyes as he spoke very clearly to me—wanting me to remember every word. “We kill the right people…to save the many.”  
Those words sunk into me like a rock into water, and they rang through me like a church bell on Sunday. We kill the right people to save the many. I looked through him and nodded my understanding. “That is why we are called the Saviors.” I agreed.  
Negan nodded and smiled. “I’m proud of you…that kill wasn’t easy, it would have been easy to hand if off to someone else, or to put a bullet through his skull…but you took the bull by the dick—looked your fear right in the god damn eye, and took care of it.”  
He was right…and whether I knew it or not—he did, he knew it was fear of mine to re-encounter my parent’s killer, and I “handled” it. My soul might be damaged and scared, but I knew one thing…The Sanctuary, I would keep save, the people inside it—were my responsibility, but not mine alone. Negan gently kissed me. We would defend this place and its people with my very life, I couldn’t save my parents—but these people…I would throw myself on a blade for. It might drive me crazy—he might drive me crazy, but I was too far gone now, and I welcomed it.  
I kissed Negan back as we waded in the water, his hands roaming beneath the surface. I grabbed his left hand and took the soap. I washed his body and left behind a trail of kisses along his back. He hung his head back and moaned—making my damaged heart leap within my chest. He spun on me, taking the bar of soap and with a devilish grin, washed my body, kissing my throat, picking me up under my thighs. My legs wrapped around him as he ran his hands across my body, his tongue exploring my mouth—I knew he wasn’t going to ask for sex, not after what I went through…he would wait for me to give the okay, and he wouldn’t complain when I said no. He gave respect out sparingly—but me—he gave me the most and put me in the highest regard. I looked at him and the way he looked right back at me. “My mama warned me about guys like you.” I smirked.  
“Good—she should have.” He grinned and kissed me again. I knew the way I felt for him would get me killed someday, but until then, I’d enjoy it.  
After we were clean he cradled me, carrying me out of the water to shore and dried me off, from my shoulders to my toes before drying himself off. “We all have weaknesses,” He spoke as he pulled his boot back on, looking up at me as I braided my hair down my back, “It is our choice whether to let them destroy us…or make us strong as shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on trying to get two or three more chapters posted this weekend! Thank you for the support!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great songs to play with this chapter! Start at the beginning of reading and listen through all three ;)  
> 1\. Gun In My Hand/ Dorothy  
> 2\. 99 Problems/ Hugo  
> 3\. Hot Blood/ Kaleo

“So, who do we go after first?” I spoke at the table, Negan at the head of it, me and his other men and women in charge circling the table. “We know the Library was in on this…but who do we take first? The stragglers or the Library?”  
Negan rubbed his chin, Lucille sitting on the table as he thought. “The stragglers…Library can’t do shit, that’s why they had to call in extra help, they’ll stay put.”  
“Then it’s settled.” I spoke, rising to my feet. It had been a few days after I executed Vincent and Negan had convinced me to allow the stragglers of the Caravan to make their decision to leave or face death. Our scouts had reported them gearing up, but not to leave, they were going to attack again. The group we encountered on the road was only half, the few Negan had taken out, that terrible night—had been their scouts…now it was time to play clean up. They were going to try to hit our home and our people and Negan and I would never let that happen. “We leave today. Take them before they hit us.” I looked to Negan, waiting for his approval—but he saw the respect I carried for him in my eyes and a smile crossed his face. “Yes, sweetheart,” He turned from me to the rest at the table, “Today.” He slammed Lucille on the table. “Let’s get our asses in a hurry!” He shouted, and I smiled, eager to get my hands dirty. Negan’s words kept a loop in my head to keep me somewhat sane, ‘We kill the right people, to save many’. I closed my eyes and reminded myself this. It was them or us…and I would choose these people, the families here, their children, the elderly that couldn’t fight for themselves, the chronically ill. It would always be us.  
We left Negan alone in the room and the group of us headed to armory and to the car lot to organize vehicles. His voice came over every radio, “Load up, boys, we have a fucking fight to finish.” Minutes later men and women were pouring out of The Sanctuary, lining up for weapons. Negan strolled out onto the loading dock, taking in the action, Lucille in his hand, pistol in his belt, and automatic rifle on his back. I rested my hands on my knife handles in my belt as I stared at him. His eyes found mine and he sent me a wink that made my stomach flip. I scrunched in smirk and turned away from him, watching people take guns and pick a vehicle to ride in. My eyes fell on the black Harley Davidson and I smiled, striding towards it. I swung my leg over and sat in the saddle as I pulled on my fingerless, enforced-knuckled gloves. Negan caught me sitting on his bike and smiled, shaking his head “no”. I smirked back and raised a middle finger as I started the bike, it rumbling to life between my legs. I couldn’t hear him, but I could see him laughing as he turned his head away. I gave him hell every chance I could, just because I could, but I knew he ate that shit up and wouldn’t admit that it turned him on.  
Orders were given, and rides were set when Negan swaggered towards me. “Scoot back.” He chuckled as he swung a leg in front of me, pushing me back to ride bitch. “Hey!” I yelped.  
“I ‘aint fucking letting you ride yourself into an early grave, I’m steering this god damned steel horse.”  
“Whoa! A bit misogynistic there.” I laughed joking. “I can ride this thing better than you I bet.”  
“You’d lose that bet, sweetheart.”  
“Hmm, well see.” I simpered behind him, sliding my hands forward, caressing his legs.  
He jumped and looked over his shoulder at me, “Not helping your case, darlin’, makes me wanna sit you back there more often.”  
I slapped his leg playfully and grabbed his waist as he rolled the throttle down and pulled away, leading the war party out of the compound gates. We rode the middle lines in the road, ahead of the pack, the wind kissing our faces as we rode to battle. Two jeeps sped ahead of us to protect us from any oncoming gunfire as we approached. A skinny spire of smoke snaked into the sky ahead…a sure sign of there whereabouts. Negan slid a hand to my thigh, giving me any sort of solace before we took more lives—to save the ones we protected.  
We pulled down the dirt road five miles past the cross roads, near the tracks. There was an old radio station here, and the dirt road looped around to connect to another road on the other side of the woods. Their armored cars were parked along the side of the building and soon after hearing our convoy—they poured out of the building, guns at the ready. The jeeps ahead of us screeched to a stop, the passengers pulling up guns and firing back. I used both breaks on the bike and put my toe down to keep us upright. Negan swung his leg around, leaping from the bike as I steered through the cars and rolled up under some trees. I kicked the stand down and rolled off the bike, taking cover behind it. They were still pouring out of the radio station, and I watched as Negan cut them down with a smile on his face. He was the fire in my blood, and it made me ignite. Staying low, I took off for the cover the vehicles, our men firing back—standing their ground—taking out the wicked. I ran to stand beside Negan, and brought a pistol up, feeling it recoil in my palm. The shimmering shells glittered in the sunlight as they chimed and clattered to the dirt. I pulled the trigger until my pistol was out of ammo, Negan pulling an extra cartage from my hip and tossing it to me. I reloaded and unloaded again. There were so many of them, and I watched as some of our men took bullets, and fall to the ground dead. A red-hot anger coursed through my veins. I turned back towards our enemies, put a knife between my lips, pulled my second pistol and stepped around from the cover of the cars.  
I could hear Negan’s voice cry out my name as I stepped out. The shots rang from my pistols, blood spraying from bodies when they found their marks. I moved as I shot, and somehow it felt as if time slowed, bullets slowly flying past my face. A bullet grazed my arm, making my teeth grind on the blade in my mouth as I fired my last couple shots, before taking it from my lips and hurling it at the man before me, sinking it into his chest with a scream.  
The gun fire slowed, giving me a second to run back to safety, and watch as a car peeled out the other drive, dirt flying, dust clouding in the air…escaping to get reinforcements. As I moved towards Negan’s bike a hand wrapped around my arm, holding me in my place.  
“What in the actual fuck were you thinking?!” He yelled over the gunfire.  
“They are going to get away! Come on!” I tugged him towards the bike. He looked up to see the dust starting to clear down the path and followed me, pushing my head down as we ran past bullets. I jumped on the bike, kicked it into first gear and laid down on the throttle, Negan barley making it onto the back of the bike as I flung rocks after the car. I turned down the dirt drive and shifted, gaining speed and gaining ground on them. “Ride his ass, like he’s towing ya!” Negan ordered, but once we were on pavement, I gave the bike hell and we caught up quickly. I pulled a pistol and shot at the tires, hoping one would blow and pull them over, when bullets whizzed over our heads, Negan shouting out curses. I looked over my shoulder to see two of the armored cars were behind us. I had to think fast.  
“Negan!” I yelled over the wind and engine. “Take the fucking bars!” I screamed, letting the motorcycle bars go and he reached around me to take control. “The fuck are you doing?!” He yelled.  
I scooted up on the tank, tucked my legs in, and gripping Negan’s shoulder and between the bars, spun around to face him. I reached under his arm to grab the rifle he still carried and raised it, shooting the armored cars under his arm. The windshields cracked and splintered as the bullets tore through the cars and the people inside. Blood covering the spiderwebbed glass. Negan reached between us for his pistol in his belt, and raised it, a bullet catching the tire of the car ahead of us. The tire blew, and white smoke filled the air around us. Negan dropped his gun to take the bars again. “Hang on to me!” He shouted as he slowed the bike as quickly as possible before colliding into the car ahead. My arms held onto him as we swerved, barley missing the careening car. Ahead of the car, I raised the rifle again, peppering the front of the it, finally bringing it to a stop, sideways in the road.  
Negan and I looped around, peering into the car windows—the passengers dead, then doubled back to the other cars, both on the sides of the road, smoke rolling out of them as they caught on fire. I looked up at Negan, still facing him on the tank, my pelvis on his. He was stoic, and so god damn sexy as he stared at the road ahead. I dared reaching up around the back of his head, his eyes flicking to me, as I leaned up and kissed his mouth. He drank in my kiss, taking on hand off the bar to hold the side of my face. The moment was over too soon, as he pulled away to focus on the road and turn back down the dirt road, ready for another fight—but the fight was over, and we had won.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warm Shadows/Fink  
> Fire/Barns Courtney  
> Wicked Ones/ Dorothy
> 
> (Depending on if you like the songs, I like to play Fire twice because I like the way the rhythm moves with the story)

We walked amongst the dead, scavenging from the bodies and loading up our dead. The smell of death hung in the air around the radio station the heat making it worse. As I walked around the dead, stabbing those in the head that hadn’t taken a head shot, I noticed they were all men…not a single woman or child, no one under the age of nineteen it looked. He was keep a close eye on me while trying to keep his “distance”, but the curiosity he had in me—like the curiosity I held for him, didn’t keep him far. I turned to him after sticking a blade down in a man’s head. “There are no women, no children.” I looked to him.  
“Marauders.” He said. “I’ve seen plenty of groups like this. Good thing we killed them now.” He turned away, Lucille sitting on his shoulder. The stench of the blood on the Earth was finally starting to churn my stomach. I watched as some of the bigger men loaded the last of our dead into a pick up. A wave of guilt passed through me as I stared at his face. He had a wife and two children…he fought to protect them, but now he was dead. This was my fault. I turned to the man that carried him—Yago. He looked at me with deeply saddened eyes. It was his brother that he carried. He rolled his lip in and suppressed any words that would betray his emotion. I did this.  
I turned from everyone and walked back towards the bike. Negan sauntered over, not saying a word, and pressed his forehead to mine, a hand behind my ear. He knew I blamed myself, but he was here to let me know it wasn’t. He pulled away to slip his hands under my arms and scoot me onto the back seat of the bike, kneeling to pull the pegs down for my feet. I sat down in front of me, and pulled us away from the carnage that I created.  
When we got to The Sanctuary, he took my hand and guided me off the bike, pulling me to him, catching my mouth with his. “It is not your fault.” He whispered into my mouth. I wanted to believe him.  
I stayed outside long after most had retreated inside for rest. I watched from the loading dock as the bodies were being taken to the woods to be buried, then I saw Yago, staring at his brother in the pick up bed. I walked towards him cautiously, moving to stand beside him to look at the white cloth covered body. I placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.” I breathed.  
“He was my baby brother.” He spoke, his voice laced with sorrow.  
“Let me help you.” I tested.  
He nodded, not taking his eyes off of John.  
I grabbed one end of the plank stretcher his brother laid, while Yago took the other end and we carried John into the woods. We sat him down in the tall grass and I grabbed a shovel, stomping it into the earth.  
“What are you doing?” Yago asked.  
“I’m helping…because this is my fault.” I told him.  
“John went on his own…you didn’t force him to go, he did it because he believed in what the Sanctuary does for people.”  
I keep my eyes dry and nodded, driving the shovel down again. We said nothing else as we dug a six foot hole in the ground together, finally placing John in the ground as the sun began to dip down. After John was put to rest, I allowed Yago some time with his baby brother and I walked back to The Sanctuary. 

 

**I packed my shit while he was gone. Left him a nice note I had written with tears streaming down my face about how to take care of Atlas. Had given Atlas a big hug and kiss before I left him. I couldn’t stay here anymore. I couldn’t keep putting my people in danger. I took his motorcycle and I tied my shit down on the back of the black Harley Davidson and pushed it silently out the gates. When I was far enough away, I jumped into the saddle, turned her on, kicked in the clutch and sped away. I cried for the first mile for Atlas, I would miss him with my whole heart, I knew that I would miss Negan too…  
I didn’t have a plan but thought about riding to Appalachia country. To Tennessee or farther. The cold winters would slow the Dead way down, maybe I’d keep going till I met Canada, or maybe go to the Ozark Islands, row out to an island, stay hidden. Doing any of this without Atlas, or Negan made me want to go back. It made my chest hurt. The night air whipped my face and through my hair, and over the loud pipes, I could hear it. Hear him. The black pick up. I dared a look over my shoulder and I could see it, just behind me.  
I lifted up another gear with the toe of my boot and laid on the throttle, going speeds that would for sure kill me if I crashed. He kept up though. The roar of the trucks engine made me panic. The engine roared louder and I clamped my eyes shut for a second or two--waiting for his front end to nick my rear tire. He of course was angry at me abandoning everything. I opened my eyes to see him blazing past me. I kicked in the clutch and felt the engine of bike slow me rapidly, throwing me forward on the tank. Negan continued down the road, breaking hard up the road and turning it to block both lanes. I could feel my eyes widen and my panic rise into my throat. I whimpered as I braked and throttled down and punched in the clutch in a rapid attempt to stop before slamming into the side of the pickup. He was already out of the pickup leaning along the side of the pickup that I was rapidly approaching. Fuck. Fuck! Another gear and the motor was groaning, trying to stop.  
My heart returned back to normal beats for a split second in knowing I wasn’t going to die from a head-on motorcycle accident, but returned to rapid beats when Negan stepped up and took the handle bars of the bike when I had finally rolled to a stop. He leaned in and held up a hand, my paper note resting between his fingers. “What the fuck is this bullshit?” He said all too calm that it made me shiver, a calm that was laced with the sorrow of betrayal. He made me get off the bike and explain myself.  
“I couldn’t…I…” I was at a loss for words.  
“Speak!” He thundered.  
“I couldn’t be there anymore. I needed to leave for a bit. I was getting people killed!” I tried to keep my emotions under control. He took my face by my jaw and grimaced, “Talking like that gets you killed. What you did was some dumb shit.” He pushed me away. I could tell that he was genuinely upset with my leaving.  
It wasn’t untrue. It was some dumb shit.  
Negan turned around to look at me. “And what was that? Where did you expect to go?”  
I shrugged, “Everywhere I go, people die. I wanted to leave before…” My words got caught in my throat, “Before I got you killed.”  
Negan strode up to me, standing toe to toe with me. Tilting my chin to make me look up at him, “You are wrong. Those people died, because they believe in what we are protecting together. They believe in you and me, and this whole god damned thing. Harley.” He looked into my eyes, “We killed them, before they killed far more of us…we kill the few who deserve it, to save the many who don’t.”  
I closed my eyes, letting a tear slide down my cheek. He was right, in war, there are casualties, and who would I be if I abandoned those people that looked to Negan and I. He was right.  
Negan placed a gentle hand on the side of my face with a look that said way more about us than he did. He backed away from me and walked to the bike. He moved my pack to the front of the bike and re-tied it down. He gripped one handle bar and swung a leg over and looked at me, and my mouth went dry.  
**We stared at each other for a moment, before he said, “Get on the motherfuckin’ bike.”  
I tried to not smirk as I swung my leg over, grazing his shoulders clad in his leather jacket with my fingertips. He turned the motorcycle on and it roared back to life in between our legs. He steered the bike around the pick up on the small shoulder and throttled down. My arms flew forward to grip him for balance and I could feel his laugh resonate through me as I held on to him.  
We rode through the night, like a bat out of hell, going fast and hard.  
The night air bit our skin and sent a welcomed shiver up my body.  
Feeling free, the both of us, for the first time in a long time, it washed away all the terrible thoughts I had about leaving him, and my people. I rested my head against the cool leather of his jacket while he leaned on the curves and winds of the roads, my red scarf pulled up over my nose for warmth. I leaned back and let the wind play in my hair and dance off my skin. I felt so electric. Though I may never see Canada or the Ozark Islands, I was alive right now in this moment and my soul, my soul smiled for the first time in a long time. I took in this pure joy of being with him—enjoying something we both loved, not going on a compound run, or to battle, we just rode because. I looped my arms around Negan again and leaned forward to see his face, his bright smile gleaming in the moonlight. I planted a kiss on his cheek and settled back in tight behind him, enjoying the way his body felt so close to mine. One of his hands fell off the bars and found my leg, rubbing it up and down. Goosebumps covered my body and I reached forward to give a lingered touch to his thigh, then my hand drifted up and in to his inner thigh. I could feel him laugh again. My hand moved higher until my hand rested on his hard cock. He groaned, and it had my core molten instantly.  
Negan shifted the bike to slow and we soon came to a stop. He kicked the stand out, got off the bike, only to get back on facing me, and lifted me onto his lap while he leaned against the gas tank. His cock throbbed under me, making me moan in anticipation for what was to come. He pulled my face to his and he kissed me hard, his tongue slipping into my mouth and mine into his. His kiss was wet and hot, and sexy as fuck. He lifted his hips and ground against me which made me dripping for him.  
**“Negan, please.” I moaned, and he smiled under my lips, laughed, and grabbed my throat. Ecstasy rippled through me as he pushed me back until we sat upright on the bike. He released his grip on my throat to unzip my jacket and pull my shirt over my head. My bra was unclasped in an instant and thrown to the ground with my shirt and jacket, his mouth falling onto my breasts. I leaned my head back, gasping for air as his teeth first teased my nipples before his tongue soothed the sores he made. “Son of a bitch!” I cried out.  
He chuckled with my breast still in his mouth as he sucked hard. His hands fell on the buttons of my pants and undid them quickly. I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back so he would look at me. I licked his skin from his collarbone to his lip. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and when he went to pull back I bit down a little harder and gripped his throat tighter. He chuckled, and I let his lip go. His hand tangled in the hair at the base of my head and he yanked back, making me arch my back. I laughed at his play tonight. He laughed as he held me back then growled, “Damnit, I fucking love you.”  
Simultaneously we both calmed, and he released the hold of my hair and I sat up in his lap to look at him. His breath was shaky as his hands found my face in front of him. “Don’t try to leave me again.” He said with the most calm I have ever heard from him, the most sadness. It wasn’t a warning, but a plea. I nodded in his hands trying to digest those words on his lips. “I tried to leave, but I knew, even though I thought I had a plan, I couldn’t leave. I would end up going back, to you.” It was the truth. My ‘plans’ were haphazard, and I wasn’t just thinking about Atlas while I was attempting to leave, I was thinking of Negan as well. I was in too deep, and it was that thought that scared the holy fucking shit out of me and also made me feel like flying.  
“Say it, Harley.” He said, his hands still cupping my face.  
“I won’t leave, ever.” I promised.  
His scent was everywhere, and everywhere his body touched mine I felt my body singing for him. His lips clashed with mine. His hands sliding from my face, down my bare shoulders, then my waist, one hand falling behind my head as he leaned into his kiss. I was desperate for him now and panting through my kisses.  
He lifted me up and set my feet on the ground so that I could push my pants off my body. Negan’s hand fell on my wrist and he tugged me back to the bike, eager to set me on his cock. I stepped on the back pegs of the bike, swung a leg back over him, and lowered myself onto his hard cock. There was a moment of euphoria between us, as he entered me, and we both moaned in the way where it went beyond feeling each other in sex. I braced my feet on the back pegs and rocked myself up and down while Negan kept us from pushing the bike over with his feet on the ground.  
My body loved every inch I had of him inside me and welcomed more if there was any way I could possibly fit more of him. He was buried inside of me. His hands on my hips only excited me more, but when he bit my neck, holy fuck. I fucked him harder and hearing the breath coming from him—I knew I was fucking him just right. I leaned forward for a brief moment between thrusts to kiss him. I bit his bottom lip and dropped down hard on him, clenching my walls. His head rolled back, finally, his eyes shutting as he growled out a wild string of profanity. I giggled like a schoolgirl when I heard just how much he loved the sex we had and it only drew him closer to the edge. His hands gripped my hips hard and I gasped and moaned as he moved me up and down on his length, feeling his skin inside of me, rubbing against me—I was lost in this love. I couldn’t be filled any more by him.  
“Negan!” I said through thrusts, “Fuck me!”  
He growled and lifted me off him and got off the bike. He spun me around, facing the bike and bent me over. I looked over my shoulder to see a wicked look on his face as his licked the length of his hand and slid his hand across my opening. I leaned my head back in a gasp as he drove his dick hard into me. My walls closed around him again, in pure ecstasy. He groaned as he fucked me hard, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck yes! Negan, yes!” I moaned as my nails dug into the leather saddle of the motorcycle.  
“Holy fuck!” Negan moaned, and his hands gripped my hips harder as he thrusted harder. I would be too sore to walk after this one. His pace and pressure was perfect, his moaning and groaning were driving me over the edge.  
“Fuck me,” I breathed. “Fuck me, please.” I begged him.  
That was it for me. His reaction to my words were enough. My body shuddered, and stars exploded behind my eyes as I came, my elbows nearly giving away. I arched my back so that he could get a better angle inside of me and he had his way with me. As hard and as fast as he wanted he could take it and he did. Even after my orgasm, the feel of him pounding inside of me felt amazing and it still elicited moans and sighs from my lips. He came moments after, and shuddered into me, leaning over me, breathing hard while he drew kisses down my spine. When he finally pulled himself from me, I felt so empty. He tugged his pants up and fastened his belt and picked up my clothes and helped me dress, but not without a quick slap to the ass and a silver smile my way. I sat in the saddle trying to pull on my boots when he knelt before me to help push them on, lacing them, his eyes finding mine.  
“Marry me, darlin’.”  
My eyes snapped to his, ignoring my boot. My breath catching in my throat.  
“Marry me, Harley. I can take care of you, protect you, and with me—you can be any form of yourself that you want to be.” He repeated. I couldn’t help the half smile that crept over my face.  
He had defended me. Clothed me. Fed me. Heard me. My heart fluttered in my chest. Here we were, in the midst of an apocalypse, and this man—full of brutality, and anger, and pain, who was also full of kindness, and charity, and love, was kneeling before me, asking me to marry him.  
“I’ll think about it.” I smirked, even though my answer ricocheted around my chest.  
He smiled back and raised his brows, “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to withhold the amazing sex, until I get an answer.”  
I rolled my head back in laughter, “Okay, sure, I can live without sex, Negan.”  
He sat up so that his eyes looked right into mine, nose to nose he sat looking at me.  
“Marry me.”  
“When I am as crazy as you, I’ll marry you.”  
A grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on my forehead, “Oh, baby, you’re already there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I'm working hard on posting new chapters!)) Just got a new job, but I am doing my best to still put out chapters! Thank you all for the support!!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Hair of the Dog/ Nazareth

I slept soundly in his arms after we arrived back at the Sanctuary, and thought of what he said, what he asked of me—to marry him. He couldn’t be serious? Could he? His arms were looped around me, his breath on my bare back as he slept soundly. He was serious. The pain in his eyes when he believed I was leaving him forever. I couldn’t sleep—I had been having trouble sleeping ever since I was kidnapped. I used the night to think, but it was usually about things that were no longer relevant—like my sanity and the blackness of my heart. I knew that part of me had broken—but I welcomed it, it would make me stronger, it would make our people stronger if I lived without compassion for strangers, if I became ruthless.  
Atlas jumped up from his spot on the floor, ears erect, nose sniffing the air. My eyes narrowed “What is it?” I asked him in a whisper, then I smelt it—smoke—fire. Atlas barked anxiously, jarring Negan awake. I was already out of the bed, pulling pants on and throwing Negan his. “Fire!” I yelled. Negan sprang from bed and grabbed his radio, shouting orders to get everyone out of bed and towards an exit, but not outside. I looked out the window to see fire smoldering outside in the field, flames licking the sky from the woods beyond. I strapped on my knives ran out the door, Atlas following behind me. The Sanctuary was full of smoke and chaos. I recognized one of the men in the hall way and grabbed his arm as he ran by, “Get the water truck and drench the perimeter of the factory!” I yelled to him over the shouts and screams. I instructed another man and woman to help all the people who needed it, and to get to the ground level. I took the stairs to the ground floor quickly—trying to organize people and keep them calm. Outside I could hear the water trucks take off to help. The smoke was thick, but the grass field was burning slowly—slow burn wouldn’t harm the Sanctuary, but the woods, that was another problem. There were other places to hunt, but…this was our closest fresh food supply. We would be okay, but there was a force working against us and there was going to be hell to pay. Everyone was gathered in the smoky trade commons area. I found Negan carrying a frail old woman, setting her on a cot before joining me on the cement ledge.  
“We are going to be okay!” I called out, calming people instantly. “The fire won’t reach us, but it was a close call, we will be okay, but do not go outside until we have everything sorted out and the smoke dies off.” The voices hushed, and the citizens began to comfort themselves.  
“Gina!” Negan called to one of the lieutenants, “find the cooks. Everyone gets fresh meat with their rations today.” It was almost as if the crowd sighed in unison to the relief the found in this man. They looked up to him, and where yes, he had brutal methods of punishment—he had to run a tight ship with people who would cooperate.  
I looked to Negan, “This is retaliation.” I said so only he could hear.  
His face was stoic, he knew this as well…and he had a way of dealing with retaliation.  
When dawn had broken through the smoke of the smoldering forest—we took off for the Library. Negan’s face was blank—neither anger nor excitement on his face, I knew he must have been really pissed off. We had planned to make a pit stop at the Library and kill Thomas for his betrayal and his hand in my kidnapping and reinstate a new leader for the Library, but it was our fault for thinking the Library could wait, somehow within a week they had “decided they had enough balls to wave in our faces” as Negan had put it, and he wasn’t wrong, they thought they could play a pissing game with us, with Negan—but the fire bit—that was the nails on the coffin for them.  
We rolled straight up to the Library with a very formidable convoy, engines revving, making our presence very known. Negan shut off the truck, kicked open the door and stood up on the step on with a megaphone. “Ohhh Thomas! Come on out here! Ya done fucked up Tommy boy! You wanted to show us the size of your dick, but it seems you’ve forgotten that I’ve got the biggest Johnson out here!” Negan was smiling now at his own fucking joke. He ducked his head to look into the truck at me, a big, shit-eating grin on his face. I rolled my eyes. He was going to play with this poor bastard like a damn cat and mouse game, not that I felt sorry for Thomas—because I didn’t. He dug his grave. Negan stood upright again with that damn megaphone of his. “Thomassss,” He sang, “I will give you two minutes to get your bitch ass out here?” We all got out of the vehicles and waited, guns in hand. Their leader fucked up and either they could give him up and start a new relationship with us—or they could perish. I anxiously tapped my blade handles with my finger tips—to see his face again—to get those awful flood of memories back from that terrible night.  
The sound of a creaking hinge made me leap back in surprise, flinging a knife at the window above, sinking in a man’s forearm, his automatic rifle spraying bullets before dropping it.  
“Son of a bitch!” Negan roared. Cries of pain rose into the air and our men’s guns flew up, pointing at all of the windows; each window housing a person with a gun barrel pointed at us.  
Negan held up his pistol and I, mine at the windows. He laughed in disbelief, “Well, smack my ass and call me Sally! Look at you all, how fucking adorable.”  
One of our men writhed on the ground, moaning, a medic trying to toucanet his bullet wound in the leg. Negan pointed over to John, blood coating his pants leg. “You injured one of my men.” He rolled his tongue around his mouth, leaning on Lucille. A bead of sweat rolled down my brow as I kept my pistols on two windows. It was as tense as a wild west standoff. Nothing moved but Negan’s mouth. “Tell me, where is that coward bitch of a leader you have?” He spoke up to the windows.  
“Leave!” Someone yelled from the windows above.  
“Aww, you see I can’t do that. Where is he?” Negan pointed from window to window, “C’mon, I wanna see your face.”  
“Leave.” He appeared, scared, a man that also seemed without back bone because even when he gave the command for us to leave, his voice wavered and shook.  
“Tommy.” Negan smiled, “Why do I have twelve guns pointed at me and one man bleeding out on the ground?”  
“We will not give you any more! Leave!”  
“Oh Tom, you know I can’t do that You know that this goes beyond supplies—you know now, that this is personal.  
“Don’t care. Leave.”  
“You have gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”  
My eyes narrowed on Thomas before glancing at Negan from the corner of my eye, silently asking him what he wanted to do. 

“Fine.” Negan laughed. “We’ll go. But we’ll be back, Tommy.” He pointed to him. I looked at him with disbelief. He grabbed my arm and turned me back towards the vehicles and gave me a silent wink. “Men! Let’s go!” The men and women looked just as surprised and confused as me but we did as we were told. We loaded into the vehicles and began our departure when Negan got on the CB radio. “Make a loop and park two blocks away from the backside. Wait for my order.” It was perfectly orchestrated. We drove back to the direction of the compound—making the library believe we were actually leaving—the fucking idiots even had the gall to cheer their “victory” but it would be so short lived.  
“Fuckin’ pricks think they’ve won.” I growled.  
**Negan chuckled and set his hand on my thigh, grabbing my chin in two fingers. He kissed me softly before kicking the truck door open. Lucille in hand in led us behind the Library. We watched Thomas’s people, milling around with damn smiles on their faces in their garden—when their leader had thrown me to a pack of fucking rapists. My blood boiled and my hands gripped my blades tightly. I took joy in hearing the ‘zing’ of the blades being pulled from their sheaths. Negan turned to us then to me, “Have fun.” He smiled. I strode forward out of the shadows. Vengeance throbbed in my body like my blood and bones sang for it. The group outside who saw me coming froze like deer in headlights. I flung my hand forward and my blade rotated through the air, sticking into a woman’s chest. Gunfire rang out from behind me and bullets shot through the air around me as I took my time taking down one at a time, blood covering my hands. The Library citizens tried to fire back, but they couldn’t aim and bullets just whizzed by not making any of their marks. I cut throats, and spilt blood as I made my way to the Library back door. A man took off for the door—trying to take shelter. I flicked my wrist and a knife whirled through the air and sunk into his back. A trail of bodies laid in my wake as I stood by the back door, waiting for a few of the gunmen to step in ahead of me. Negan strolled across the pavement, swinging Lucille—warming up, a smile on his face.  
I fell in behind our men in the library, my pistols pulled. I was going to kill Thomas—Negan would have to fight me for him. Shots rang out ahead of me—gun flare lighting up the dark hall. Screams and blood, flashing light and shadows. We stood in the library the remaining citizens shivering and crying in fear. My hands were tight around my pistols as I looked to each one. Thomas was not amongst them. Before I could put a bullet in each of them, Negan strolled in with a whistle. He stood beside me and before the survivors, counting—searching for Thomas. He sucked in his bottom lip when he came to the same conclusion I had—the cowardly son of a bitch ran away. His smile returned after a moment of frustration. “Bow down bitches!” He laughed, swinging Lucille. The survivors flinched and got to their knees, sniveling. “Who wants to tell me where Thomas went?” Negan said, looking down the end of Lucille. The survivors glanced around, wide eyed, genuine confusion…their leader had left them.  
One man, his face contorted into anger, “Spineless fuck.” He spat. Negan raised his brows and looked to him.  
“Somethin’ you want to say pal?”  
The man’s eyes were lit with rage, “That fucking asshole left us. He got us into this—and he left us.”  
Negan rubbed his chin smiling, “Are you really surprised?” Everyone looked to Negan, “He hired two groups of lawless men to come and kill us, to hurt my girl,” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to me, “Now he has this group coming into our woods and burning it down—now I know it couldn’t be you, Thomas was too spineless—so who was it?”  
“You’re just going to kill us anyways.” He man spat.  
“Actually, no.” Those on their knees went wide eyed. “I was actually going to invite you back to the Sanctuary, to live with us—if,” The ‘if’ hung in the air like a hook to a fish, “if you tell me where the fuckers burning our forests are.”  
The man Negan had been speaking to lifted his chin, “I’ll tell you where they are, and I’ll help you hunt down that fucking prick Thomas. The Wolves, The Caravan, Thomas just dug us deeper and deeper. We’ll come with you.” The others on their knees nodded in agreement.  
“Well,” Negan held out a hand to help the man to his feet. “Looks like you’ve got a deal.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** I will follow you into the dark/ Jasmine Thompson  
> ** Part 1/ Sam Pinkerton

With the Wolves about, Negan didn’t allow me to go to the river to bathe—instead, he had his men heat water in the boiler room and carry it to our apartment, filling the bathtub with piping hot water. I sat on the edge of the tub, trying my best to patiently wait while the water cooled to a temperature that wouldn’t boil me. I always thought it was weird for a factory to have apartments with bathrooms, but these were dorms for the workers who had to travel long distances—or temps, so I suppose it made some sense.  
The water had finally cooled enough, and I didn’t hesitate to slip into the tub. Steam swirled around me as I felt warm water for the first time in—so, so long. I sighed as I dipped my head back, wetting my hair. My God, it was heavenly. “Is the water ready?” His voice rang out.  
A smile crossed my face as I heard his steps nearing the bathroom, opening my eyes to see Negan in the door way. He leaned against the door frame looking at me with a glint in his eyes, but it wasn’t the lust that normally played in them. “Aren’t you a sight.” He breathed. I smiled wide as he took off his boots and socks and crouched behind me in the pedestal tub. His hands dipped under the water to wrap around my collar bone and place a kiss on my wet hair. It was these moments I longed for—these moments that came and went too fast. “That water feels great.” He spoke into my ear, kissing the top of it.  
“Why don’t you join me?” I simpered.  
He chuckled, “You know, I’ll take you up on that offer.”  
**I watched him undress, giggling with anticipation. He stepped in behind me and slid into the water, me giggling as the water washed over the edge of the tub. I rested my back against his chest and sighed. His finger tips made lazy circles on my stomach as he rested his head back. Oh this man—I loved this man. I loved him. And it killed me, because one day it would come to an abrupt end, give it tomorrow, a month, a year, we would be on borrowed time, but the way he made my broken, psychotic heart flutter…it was too good to try to save myself.  
“I love you.” I spoke into the dark bathroom. I could feel him pick his head up, his fingers stopping their idle movement. I turned to face him, his eyes searching mine. “I love you, Negan…I’d follow you to hell and back.” My mouth moved to make more words, but I couldn’t—it was all I needed to say.  
His hands took my face, and brought my lips to his, kissing me so deep. He was a broken soul, with a broken heart—like me and I understood him more than anyone else. He kissed me with such urgency and for a moment I saw his weaknesses in the way he kissed me. I moved to sit in his lap as he kissed me, ran his hands through my hair, over my skin, the steam swirling around us. This was his way of saying ‘I love you too’ I knew it in my bones and soul; they were kisses that I have never felt before—not from anyone. My breath caught in my throat, choking me with how tender he kissed me.  
His lips pulled away and he looked into my eyes inches away while I tried to catch my breath. I loved him, for all his brokenness, all of his psycho, all of his raunchy jokes, all of him. “Marry me.” He asked, earnestly.  
I smiled, “When?”  
“Right now.” He reached for his pants on the floor fumbling around in his pockets, producing a ring in front of me, holding it out to me.  
“Okay.” I smirked, biting my bottom lip. I held out my left hand and he slipped the simple silver band over my finger. “What about you?” I glinted.  
He raised his brows and took the ring on his index finger and moved it to his ring finger and beamed back at me.  
“So, there it is,” I giggled, “A post-apocalyptic bath-tub wedding.”  
He laughed with me and kissed me again, his mouth moving with mine, then pulling away to kiss and gently bite the length of my neck to my shoulders. My hands felt the muscles on his back, his shoulders, this moment was too perfect, and I wanted him. He kissed that spot he knew I liked on my neck and my head fell back, “Negan.” I breathed. His hand supported my head as he kissed that spot again and again. My hand slipped from his shoulder and drifted down between us, feeling his cock that was lengthening by the moment. He sighed into my neck, sending shivers down my body in water so pleasantly warm. His free hand felt my breast as I stroked him, his thumb circling over my nipple before lowering his head to take my breast in his mouth. My hips hitched towards his as tongue explore me. He made me feel so alive in this world so dead.  
“Negan,” I whispered his name in his ear, “Take me, please.” I ground against him, allowing him to feel between my legs. He groaned with my breast in his mouth before moving to look at me, a silver smile on his lips, his teeth glinting in the low light. “Come on, baby.” He said cocking his head to the bedroom and stepped out of the tub. He helped me out of the tub and toweled me and himself off before picking me up and carrying me to the poster bed, setting me down gently as he leaned over me. Negan smiled at me while brushing the hair from my face. “Wow.”  
“What?” I smirked.  
“You are beautiful, wife.”  
I smiled at him before his lips took mine and he crawled on top of me, between my legs. Negan’s tongue was in my mouth with each kiss, moans escaping me with each kiss. My head was spinning. He was taking it so slow—that I wanted him more. He rolled over a bit to allow one of his hands access to between my legs, my breath hitching as he massaged me. Negan’s fingers dipped into me and my back arched as he rubbed the walls inside of me, applying pressure in the perfect places that had me gasping for air. “Negan,” I nearly wept, it felt so good.  
“Yeah, baby?” He simpered. “You like that?” Oh God yes! “Are you ready?”  
“Yes! Please!” My words came out in breaths that had him grinning as he pulled his fingers out. I look down and watched as he took his massive cock in his hand, stroking himself a few times, making me wetter to see how much he was into this, how he touched himself, how he looked at me and how he gasped as he ran his hand across his length. I opened my legs a little more as he positioned himself while leaning over me, then drove into me. I nearly cried out when he sank into me, so slow I felt every inch. “Harley.” He shut his eyes and moaned out my name. He dropped to an elbow as he rocked into me slow and deep, every inch of him pulling out and pushing in. The sound of his moaning, it was music to my ears, I could listen to the sound of him moaning all day. I arched my back, loving every bit of how he loved my body. “Oh God,” He sighed.  
“You like that, baby?” I asked him, my voice a near sob.  
“Oh, Harley, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking great.”  
My body rocked, I was so close. “Keep that pace, Negan. I’m going to come.”  
He did as I commanded, he kept that pace, but he knew my little tells that would get me off better. He kissed my jaw as his hips rocked back and forth, his hand reaching down and massaging my clit. I cried out into the night as Negan loved me, my body shaking with pleasure and release while Negan kept up that steady pace. He let me lay into the pillow to enjoy my come for a moment, before taking my hip and rolling over so that I sat on top of him. I gripped the headboard and moved my hips against him, rocking back and forth. His cock was so deep inside of me and I hung my head back as I felt him throb inside of me. He wanted to come, so I did exactly as he liked. I rode him, not hard, but in the way I knew he would like. He growled, his hands going to my waist as I gripped the headboard tighter. “Harley.” Negan moaned again.  
“Shit!” I cried. He was too intoxicating. Everything he did made me fucking hot—made me wet.  
“Yeah, baby. Like that.” He told me, his voice deep, like poison in my blood. The ecstasy between us was unparalleled. I kept the pace up, willing myself to not take him for another orgasm. His body went taught, his muscles so tight, an iron grip on my hips, then release. I felt him come inside me, Negan throwing his head onto the pillow, a moan so loud. I sat on him while he continued to have aftershocks from his orgasm, until his breath had steadied.  
I laid down beside him, breathing hard. “You think that bath water is still warm?” I asked.  
He laughed and rolled over, taking my chin in his hand and planting a kiss on my lips. He got out of bed, his ass so fucking nice. He looked over his shoulder like he knew I was staring at his ass. “Come on,” he smiled, “lets get clean, my dirty girl.” 

He didn’t have to ask me twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the support and being so patient with me! I have a crazy schedule right now, but stay tuned! More of the story is coming your way!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** No Good/Kaleo

Things were tense at the table. All was quiet and in my head, I replayed what Devin, the man from the Library whom made the deal, had said on our way back to the Sanctuary: “Thomas went to the Hilltop—they made a deal to give resources to us, to distribute to the rogues to help fight you”. The Library had us tangled not only with the Caravan, but they had also gone to the Hill Top for help as well…now they were doing deals with these people called the Wolves—who scorched the Earth and burned the forests down. They had made some sort of deal that was appealing enough for these assholes to agree…they told them of our location. It was only a matter of time before hell broke loose. The Wolves were a large marauding group and we had no idea how many there really were.  
Finally, Negan spoke, “I don’t fucking like rogues, I don’t fucking like what they stand for, and I don’t fucking like them working with our motherfucking suppliers. I want these pricks dead, all of them, and their heads on pikes .”  
“How do we find them? They don’t have a camp—they just keep moving.” Wade added.  
Negan leaned back, resting his boots on the table, Lucille resting on the table. “That part is simple, when you have a wolf killing your flock,” Negan’s eyes flicked to mine, “You send out a hunter.”  
I dipped my chin down in understanding that it would be me, with my impressive skill set that would hunt the Wolves down.  
“They attacked us, they know where we are! Who’s to say they won’t have others to tell and make their rounds back?!” Regina spat out, her eyes frantic.  
Negan brought Lucille onto the table, rattling everyone to full attention.  
“Let me make this painfully clear,” Negan’s voice was laced with venom, “Ra-Gina, and everyone else here…can you tell me why Simon is no longer with us?”  
The room was painfully quiet.  
“No one? No one can tell me why I had to let that peckerhead go? Why I fed him to my beautiful, beautiful wife?” Negan looked to me from the corner of his eye and gave me a wink, a smile crossing my face with the fond memory of his blood on my hands. Everyone’s eyes flicked to me with the mention of wife, their eyes landing on the dull ring on my finger. “Simon,” Negan boomed, “was a jizzstain that loved to,” Negan paused for effect, which had only me rolling my eyes, “backslide, because Simon thought he was in charge. Now Gina!” Gina winced to her name, a smirk playing on my face. “Are we backsliding?”  
“No, Negan.”  
“Good, good. Who’s in charge?” He grinned.  
“You, Negan.”  
“Two for two,” Negan laughed, “but, one more question…Will you challenge me again?”  
Regina’s eyes fell to the table as she shook her head, “No, Negan.”  
Negan leaned back again in his chair, a wide smile on his face, “Wonderful! So, my wife, will be leading the hunt. Harley, you are in charge of this one, anything you’d like to add?”  
My eyes scanned the room, a picture of how I wanted today to go forming in my mind. “They use fire as a weapon, so odds are they will use it to combat us, in that case, no one should get caught out, in case they try to divide us. They could have explosives, but from what Devin said, they didn’t carry guns—that’s not saying they don’t have them rat-holed away somewhere. Knives they did carry on them—but the most important thing to remember is that they have numbers, numbers that we are not willing to risk on our own, I can also assume that they are crafty, like to set traps. I will stalk ahead and will whistle three times when I want you all to get ready.”  
“What is your plan with this, Harley.” I could feel Negan’s deep voice in my chest.  
“I’m going to be bait.” I smirked. Negan’s face instantly dropped. “I’ll lead them to where you all will be hidden, the dried creek bed, you’ll be positioned on top of the hill.”  
“Okay,” Negan spoke, “Everyone got it?” We looked around the room and everyone seemed to be fully onboard. “Alright, everyone get outta here.” Negan waved his hand, still lounging in his chair. I stayed seated beside him while everyone filtered out, the door closing behind them, leaving just me and him. His eyes scanned over me, a smirk playing on his face. “I know you are more than capable of handling this little problem…but what about you in all of this, we’ll be on the hill, you’ll literally be caught in crossfire.”  
“I am.” I smiled, “And I wouldn’t be too worried about me, besides, I know you’ll be there if shit goes south.” I bit my lower lip and winked at Negan.  
He smiled wide and chuckled. “Well of course! I do like killing people after all.”  
“The right people.” I finished.  
“The right people.” He echoed.  
I stood from my chair, my fingertips trailing along the tabletop as I strode over to Negan, my king, my very own Clyde Barrow. Negan took his feet off the table as I neared, a sinful light in his eyes gleaming. I touched his face, his stubble rough under my fingertips as I swung a leg over him and sat down in his lap. His hands gripped my waist as he grinned up at me. I leaned into him and kissed him. His lips were soft under mine and gave way to my tongue. He chuckled into my mouth as I ground my hips on him. “Oh, so you have an agenda, hmm?” He teased.  
I smiled under my kiss. “Shut the fuck up.” I giggled. His hands tangled in my hair as he ground against me—the things that man could do with his hips. My face was flushed in an instant. I pulled my lips from his to kiss his throat, just under his jaw—the spot he liked the most and I felt his breath hitch so quietly. I moved to look into his eyes once more, sending him a devilish grin before getting off his lap. He watched me with an intensity as I slipped under the table and undid his belt. He laughed out loud as I pulled his cock free from his pants, taking entertainment in my kinky thoughts. “You are the fucking best, wife.” He breathed out as he leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. Sitting on my knees, I positioned myself between his legs and ran my tongue over his length, flicking my tongue over the head, Negan flinching, then laughing at himself. His hand reached under the table, resting it on my chocolate brown hair. I was done teasing him as well, and took his cock into my mouth. His breath hitched again, and I giggled around his cock. My mouth, hand, and tongue fell into a rhythm that had him moaning and gently clenching a handful of hair.  
A knock came on the door and it swung open. Negan jumped, and I did everything I could not to accidentally bite him, but Negan was at the far end of the table, away from the door, whoever it was, couldn’t see what was going on.  
“Josef,” Negan laughed, “What a fucking coincidence.” I bit down on my hand to keep from laughing.  
“Coincidence, Negan?”  
“Ah it’s nothing, what did you want?” Negan said through laughs.  
** As Josef stammered out detail, Negan’s hand found my head again under the table, guiding me back to his cock. I smirked. That kinky son of a bitch. I quietly found my rhythm again and I could feel his body tense, trying to keep himself under control. I didn’t pay any attention to what Josef was saying, I was just doing my best keeping quiet as I sucked his dick under the conference table. His hand bound in my hair again pulling me off of him. Josef finished up and left the room, the door clicking behind him. Negan released my hair and scooted his hair back so that he could look at me. “I’m going to come.” He breathed, motioning for me to come to him. Negan hung his head back as I crawled out from under the table and put my lips around him. He groaned again and gripped my head again, asking me to go his pace, and I more that willingly obliged. I gripped his knee with one hand while my other rested on his shaft as I took him deep. Negan was sighing and moaning now, he was on the very edge of coming and it made me molten between my legs. He gasped and came into my mouth hard. “Shit fuck!” He breathed as sucked him clean, running my tongue over his head as I pulled my mouth off of him. His eyes gleamed with lust as I swallowed. He handed me a canteen, his smile still wide as I swished my mouth with couple swallows of water.  
“I can’t believe you did that!” I smirked and handed the canteen back to him.  
“Listen, you are hot as fuck, and personally—public sex is a turn on for me.”  
I laughed and punched his shoulder. “Of course it is.” I ran my thumb over the corner of my mouth as Negan tucked himself back into his pants.  
“Well that was an enjoyable fuck break, but we have some hunting to do.” He said standing and grabbing Lucille.


End file.
